#please like i know this irl. i know there are healthy relationship age gaps

[permanentreverie]

guys i know i joke saying i like older men. but DAMN.

[hyukalyptus]

office hours — professor!soobin x gradstudent!reader

cw. chubby!reader, reader is an adult grad student, minimal age gap, clear consent, petnames (babe, baby, honey, darling, good boy), mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected penetration, creampie, cunnilingus, handjobs, ending is cheesy, "epilogue" of sorts involves christmas vibes, kissing, please lmk if i'm missing anything. NSFW/MDNI notes. i would feel irresponsible if i didn't acknowledge this is a romanticized portrayal of a professor-student relationship. while the relationship in this story has clear consent multiple times, irl relationships like this can be inappropriate and exploitative bc of the authority imbalance. you deserve a healthy, consensual relationship. prioritize ur well-being and autonomy. relationships should be built on mutual respect, equality and clear consent. this is a work of fiction and should be read as such. shoutout to @silvergyus for sending the prof!soob pic <3 wc. 11.6k

“Which brings us to Le Chatelier's Principle in real-world chemical reactions,” Professor Choi says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “This will be review for most of you, so I won’t go into too much detail.” 

Chemistry is your favorite thing in the world. It’s real-life magic. And Professor Choi sees it that way too. His olive green chinos are wrinkled from walking from his office. The sleeves of his white button-down are pushed up so he can write freely on the whiteboard while his burgundy tie sways with his scurries. 

Sparks of passion fill his eyes as he lectures. And he never disappoints with his cheesy jokes. Although you seem to be the only one that laughs at them—maybe you’re the only one that gets them. Not many students in his class are the experts in chemistry you are. You took it as a break from your intense course load and the elective credits are a nice bonus. 

Most of your professors are so old they barely know how to turn on their laptop and are so deep into their tenure they’ve given up. If you bothered showing up to their office hours, you’d be lucky to find a professor, let alone a helpful one. So you’ve become a frequent visitor in Professor Choi’s office hours, talking about advanced chemistry he can’t wait to teach but it’ll be at least five years before he can. In the meantime, he’ll settle for nerding out with you in his office for a few hours every week.

“Great class today, everyone,” he says. “Have a great weekend and don’t hesitate to visit me during my office hours with any questions!” That sentence started out as a normal speaking voice but ended up a shout over the shuffling of the desk chairs and backpacks. You’re typically the last one out, but you save your questions for his office hours tomorrow. 

-

“Hi,” you say, lightly tapping your knuckle against his office door.

Turning around in his chair, his lips form a pout in surprise at seeing you. “Were you waiting outside? Sorry that meeting ran a little long—” He shuffles to organize his desk. 

“That’s okay.” Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, he rests his hands on his thighs and looks up at you. Did he just look you up and down? Don’t be ridiculous. 

“What can I do ya for?”

“Right,” you start. “Can I…?” You ask, motioning toward the spare chair, waiting for his nod before sitting. “You know Professor Vaughn’s class?” You barely catch it, but his eyes roll. Professor Vaughn is the worst professor you’ve had. Boring, harsh, impatient. It doesn’t help he teaches one of the most complex forms of chemistry. “I’m not really getting this week’s content and was wondering if you could help me.”

“Of course.” He smiles. And it’s devastating. The sparkle in his eyes and those dimples. Craning his neck to look at your notes riddled with red question marks, he nods. As soon as he sees the title of your notes, he says, “Let’s think about this from a quantum mechanical perspective. If we assume that the π-complex is forming, we’re talking about a stabilization due to delocalization π-electrons, right?”

In what feels like no time at all, an hour has passed and the conversation has been the complete opposite of Professor Vaughn’s lectures. Questions led down rabbit holes, leading to other theorems and more questions. As he glances up at you through his glasses, there is an undeniable tingle in your stomach.

It’s not like you haven’t noticed how attractive Professor Choi is. He’s tall, lean but undeniably strong, he has the most perfect silky black hair and the prettiest brown eyes, and his pout—indescribably cute. And again—those goddamn dimples. He’s the perfect mixture of sexy, handsome, and pretty. You’d never think of doing anything with a professor, but you can’t help your mind wanders during the slower lectures. 

How long have you been staring at each other in silence? Too long probably. He clears his throat. “Well,” he says, looking at his watch. “My office hours have been over for a few—”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” you say, stumbling as you stand, attempting to gather your things as quickly as possible. But he shakes his head, trying to shrug it off. 

“That’s okay,” he says. “I, uh, I just have my emails waiting for me.”

You nod, shoving everything into your bag and heading out the door. What was that? You’re probably overreacting, you think to yourself. He’s charming because of his looks, there’s no way he’d— No. Don’t even finish that thought. 

-

"How is it that someone who scored the highest in my theoretical chemistry exam is turning basic lab work into a spectacle of incompetence?" Professor Vaughn boasts over your right shoulder. No doubt his thick eyebrows are furrowed.

As your hands tighten around the test tube, you know exactly what to do—you always do—but everything slips through your fingers in his class. 

"I’m trying to get the reaction to stabilize," you stammer, eyes darting between your hands, the chemical reagents lined up on the table, and your notebook.

Professor Vaugn’s expression hardens as he steps closer, looking down his nose at your station. "Trying is for high school sophomores. If you’re still trying, you’re behind."

Taking a deep breath, you carefully add three more drops to the mixture but the reaction goes wrong. Again. A plume of white smoke rises from the beaker, and the liquid turns an unexpected, muddy brown.

"Unbelievable," Vaughn mutters loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone knows you’re the best student in your class. Well, everyone except Soren, who’s so jealous of your intelligence they can hardly stand it. They simply smirk. "I expected more from you."

Your heart sinks. You checked those calculations three times. Maybe it’s your shaky hands. Or the pressure of him looming over your shoulder. Or the other stuff on your mind. 

"Are you going to sit there and guess again, or would you like to double down on failure with your next attempt?" Vaughn sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I’m not guessing, Professor. I—"

"Can’t manage a basic reaction?" Vaughn interrupts with his icy voice. "I’m beginning to wonder how you even made it into this program."

"I’m perfectly capable. The solution is just—"

"Wrong. Yes, we’ve established that." Vaughn’s lips curl into a patronizing sneer. "Maybe chemistry isn’t the field for you if this is the best you can manage." That got everyone’s attention—it would be an interesting sight to see you fail. It so rarely happens. Sure, you’ve been doubted before but have always proven yourself. Today would be no different.

You take a deep breath and count to yourself, One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

As you block out Vaughn’s piercing gaze and the weight of the other students’ eyes, you carefully remeasure the chemical, adjusting the proportions this time, methodically double-checking your work. You add the reagent once more, slowly, and watch as the solution begins to shift. 

A moment passes. The reaction stabilizes and the solution turns a clear, pale blue. 

"Finally," Vaughn mutters. You don’t even have to look at him to know he rolled his eyes. He turns to walk away but pauses. "Barely acceptable. Next time, you won’t be given the luxury of so many failures."

-

Bursting through the door upon dismissal, you can’t get to the restroom fast enough, barely making it to a stall before tears stream down your cheeks. 

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” you whisper to yourself. 

Sometimes, chemical reactions need to be dealt with instantly, but that’s an overwhelming amount of pressure. You give yourself five seconds before you absolutely have to deal with it. Same thing here. Cry. Count to five. Wipe your tears and move on.

But it’s difficult to move on this time. You’ve counted to five a few too many times today. But the only person you want to talk about it with is—

Professor Choi,  Are you available to meet me in Lab 270 tomorrow afternoon? I’ve been struggling with some reactions and could use some help. I’ll be there from 2:00—4:00.  If not, no worries! 

Sniffling, you hit send on your email app, shove your phone in your bag and head home. 

The next day drags on and on. Did he even get your message? Expecting an empty lab, you’re surprised to find Professor Choi waiting for you behind a laptop wearing a cute tweed jacket with suede elbow patches. His eyebrows are furrowed as his focused eyes study the computer, but they brighten at the sight of you. 

Initially surprised by your confusion, he squeezes his eyes shut and says, “I didn’t respond to your email, did I?” He’s already got the lab station set up. How long has he been waiting on you? “So, how’s Professor Vaughn’s class?” Did someone tell him about yesterday? God, you hope not. 

“Fine,” you deadpan. Shaking your head, you say, “I’m sorry…I’m just kinda stressed.” 

“I can go if you need some time by—”

“No,” you say, softening your tone. “I’d really appreciate your help.”

And he’s more than willing, letting you ask whatever you want, never interrupting or talking over you like most of the men in the program. He gives you space to explore ideas and theories, listening closely instead of answering everything for you.

And he’s so damn sexy when he’s the one doing the ranting. The way he talks with his hands, ones that are so big with fingers so long you wish he would wrap around your—

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?” He asks.

Oh shit, did you say that out loud? What a fucking nightmare. “Uh, sorry, just…talking to myself. Too many thoughts racing around the ole dome.”

A slight pout forms on his lips as he continues his rant. Now, the only thing you can think of are his lips wrapped around your—

“Ah!” Your hand slips toward the Bunsen burner and, great, now you’ve got a nice burn on your thumb. 

“Oh gosh, are you okay?” He stands quickly. “Let me see.” His fingers graze your palm, igniting a fiercer burn than the actual flame just did. “Run it under cold water, okay?”

In the meantime, he straightens up your station before meeting you at the sink. “Is something wrong?” His words make you jump. “You seem distracted.” 

That’s all it takes. The floodgates open. You rant about the sexist piece of shit Professor Vaughn and his power moves to intimidate you when he knows you’re the best student in the program. About how embarrassed you were in lab yesterday. Last semester when you raised your hand to correct an equation on the board and he gave you a firm talking to about respect after class. 

He watches you carefully, handing over a towel for your hands as you take a steadying breath, fighting back tears.

“Did I ever tell you why I started studying chemistry?” he asks. You sniffle, shaking your head. “My grandfather. He was a baker.” His voice softens, and you look up to find his eyes full of kindness. “Every Saturday, he’d make me work in his bakery. I didn’t mind—it felt like magic, you know? But really, it’s science. It’s all precision, measurements, timing.” 

A smile tugs at his lips. “Once, I tried baking a cake for my mom’s birthday, followed his recipe exactly. Measured the flour, the sugar, the cocoa. When I pulled it out of the oven, it was hard. Flat. I was sure he’d be disappointed, calling it a waste of time and ingredients. I was terrified. But he looked at it, smiled, and told me to try again the next day. When I asked why it didn’t work, he said I needed to ‘feel my way through it.’”

You sit there, the sting from your burn now fading, but your heart’s still aching, wanting something from him—a hug, a kiss, even just a pat on the shoulder.

“If I’d gotten it right the first time, I’d never know what overmixed batter looks like. Or that I like more cocoa than he did. Or that you should coat berries in flour.” His smile creeps up to his eyes. “Seeing how failure could make you better—it made me curious. I wanted to understand why some things worked and others didn’t, why I needed to feel my way through it, to get into the details.” He makes eye contact with you again. “That’s why I went into chemistry. Baking taught me the magic is in the little things—if you’re willing to screw up and keep going.”

Nodding, you smile back. His words hang in the air for a moment, like they’re meant to settle, but something’s missing. 

“All I’m saying is, its okay to fuck things up, okay?” he says, his candidness drawing a chuckle from you. “How else would you learn?”

-

The world’s drained of color—only hazy shades of grey and beige are left. Your palms press against a cold marble countertop with the faint sound of running water echoing in the distance. The reflection of the mirror looks like you, but not quite. The woman in the mirror has her lips painted a dark, sultry brown, a shade you’d never choose. And the outfit is far too dressy for a lecture. Shadows fall where there shouldn’t be any. 

The hallways are unfamiliar, yet you know it's the same building you visit almost every day. It's blurry, like you’re walking through a memory that isn’t yours. 

You look down at the saddle shoes on your feet clicking against the tile floor, unnervingly filling the emptiness. It feels like someone else is controlling your body but you don’t question it. You can’t. Your hand raises, knuckles brushing a wooden door before it creaks open on its own. 

On the other side of the door, Professor Choi faces a green chalkboard. Has that always been in his office? Hurriedly scribbling down equations, he glances between the board and the notebook in his hand. When he looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes soften and a slow smile spreads across his face. “Come in,” he says gently, setting his notebook aside. His voice wraps around you, making the room feel smaller, closer. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your spine tingles. “I know,” you reply, but the words sound hollow, like you’re speaking from somewhere else. 

“Here,” he suggests, holding a piece of chalk out to you. The way he gestures toward the board is magnetic. As you take it from his hand, your fingers brush his. “What do you think of this?” An unfinished equation waits to be solved. His presence looms behind you, close but not quite touching as you reach up to solve it. Your heart pounds, every stroke of the chalk on the board heavier than it should.

“Impressive,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough around the edges. You turn to face him and he’s closer than expected, his warmth radiating against your skin. The air is thick with something unspoken. You step closer, tentative at first, then quicker, more certain. Your lips almost brush his, but he pulls back, his breath catching.

He looks down, your name a whisper on his lips, soft and pained. “I—” His eyes flicker up to meet yours, then fall back down like the weight of your gaze is too much.

“What?” You ask, your voice barely more than a breath. Your eyes dart between his, lingering on his tempting mouth. He leans in again with desire in his eyes. He wants to kiss you. You can feel it. And for a moment you think he might.

But he pulls away, his forehead nearly resting against yours. “I don’t think we should be doing this,” he says, his voice strained, as if saying the words is physically painful for him.

“Why not?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it, frustration and longing lacing your tone.

His hands flex at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to touch you. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to, or—”

“Why would I feel like that?” you interrupt, your voice impatient. Your heart races, pounding in your ears, drowning out reason.

“I’m your professor,” he breathes out like it’s a curse. His words only fan the flames of the tension building between you. There’s nothing wrong with that, you think to yourself. It’s not like you’re fresh out of high school—you’re a grad student, close to starting the same PhD he earned barely three years ago. He’s no more than five years older.

“I don’t care,” you insist, stepping even closer, your lips a breath away from his. “I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes darken, his resolve faltering as his gaze drops to your lips. “It’s a mistake,” he whispers, but his voice trembles with indecision, trying to convince himself more than you.

“Make the mistake,” you urge, your voice soft but sure. Your hand reaches for his tie, tugging as light as you can just to bring him that much closer. “You said it yourself, it’s okay to fuck things up.”

There’s a beat of silence, so thick it feels as though the room itself is holding its breath, waiting. And in that moment, the space between you seems to collapse, the weight of everything unsaid pulling you closer. 

The millisecond before your lips touch, you breathe awake. 

You bolt straight up, feeling around your soft bed sheets, breathless as your heart pounds from the vividness of it all. For a moment, you linger in the feeling, brushing your fingers over your lips, feeling the warmth of the almost kiss. But reality sinks in and your stomach drops.

Reaching for your phone, you check the time. Great, it’s almost time for his class. But there’s no hazy world to hide in. Skipping class might be an option but an exam reminder drags you out of bed. 

- 

Trudging across campus, your stomach sinks lower with each step. How can you look him in the eye? Dropping your bag to the floor with a thud, you hang your head low. Let’s just get through this exam and get outta here. 

“How’s your hand?” Professor Choi’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding his hands up. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Looking at you like you’re the cutest puppy he’s ever seen, you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you hold out your hand. The second his fingertips touch yours, you flinch and jerk it back. 

“Um—” you start. “Better, thanks.” Turning away from him, you distract yourself with a random notebook from your bag. 

“...You okay? You shouldn’t be nervous about the exam.” When you look up, you’re met with eyes that appear…hurt? 

“No, it’s not that.” That’s not a good answer. “Just…” What would you even say? I had an incredibly vivid—and delicious—dream about you last night and now I need to know how your lips feel in real life? “Cramps.”

“Ah.” He nods and leaves you alone, awkwardly walking to the front of the class to make some announcements and general good wishes before the exam. With your fist pressed to your chin, you refuse to look up, hanging your head low even as he slides you your copy. 

There’s a bright green post-it stuck to it with a note, It’s okay to fuck it up! Your heart races as your eyes dart around searching for him. When you find him, he gives you a soft smile. You return the smile but rush to unstick it before anyone sees, storing it in your notebook for safe keeping. 

-

As you return to your apartment, the post-it stares back at you like you’re the guiltiest son-of-a-bitch in the world. It’s practically calling you a whore. And you can hardly take it anymore. You can’t bring yourself to face him for class a few days later—although skipping feels like a cardinal sin. Soon enough, though, your email dings. 

From: Choi Soobin, PhD I noticed you were absent from class today. I hope everything’s okay. The lecture notes are attached for your reference. Feel free to stop by my office hours with any questions. Professor Choi

Did your heart just flutter? Why are you walking toward his office? When you knock on the door, he stands—more like stumbles—to greet you, “Hi!” 

“Hi, Professor Choi…” You linger in the doorway, clutching your notebook tight to your chest. “Sorry I missed class—”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah—”

“You’re not overwhelmed with coursework, are you?” His eyes search yours, and there’s a softness in his voice that makes it hard to look away.

“No, no, I’m alright. I just…had a migraine this morning,” you say, shrugging slightly. “It’s gone now, though.”

He nods, easing into a warm smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” His gaze doesn’t waver and the intensity makes your pulse quicken. “So, I’m guessing you’re here to go over questions from the lecture?”

“Actually, it’s Professor Vaughn’s class I’m struggling with. His lecture today was…brutal.”

“I’m shocked,” he says sarcastically. “The man’s got a gift for making simple concepts sound like Greek.”

“Exactly,” you laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing. “I thought it was me, but he seems to take pride in making everything harder than it needs to be.”

“Trust me, it’s not you,” he says, a glint of warmth in his eyes. “He’s terrible. And annoying. And boring. And I’d tell him that.”

You raise a brow, skeptical. “You wouldn’t.”

“Well…” He breaks into a grin. “Maybe after I reach tenure. Though he may be retired by then.”

“Or dead,” you say matter-of-factly. He looks at you awkwardly then you both laugh, genuinely. There’s an ease to it.

He gestures to your notebook. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

-

“I can’t believe I’m laughing at that,” you say, a giggle escaping your lips. 

“You always laugh at my bad jokes,” he replies, staring at your face a little too longingly. If you were anyone else, he might find some excuse to touch you. Maybe brush a piece of lint off your shoulder, lightly touch your arm while he laughed at something you said, or something as casual as a fist bump. 

If he were any other guy, you’d be much more obvious, making it crystal clear you want him to kiss you right now. But you can’t. You don’t even know how he thinks about you. You’re probably just another student to him. 

“Well, those are all my questions,” you say, awkwardly packing your bag. 

“Yeah, you can, uh…head out…” he trails off as you start to rise from your seat. 

You’re searching for something to say, something to let you stay just a little longer. But nothing comes. He watches you walk toward the door, the silence hanging in the space between you. 

“Pens!” His voice suddenly burst out, loud enough to make you stop mid-step. “They, uh—I went to a conference last week and they gave me a ton,” he says, scrambling to gather a handful from his desk. 

You take them, your fingers brushing against his in a way that feels far too intimate. His eyes lock with yours, the touch sending a ripple of tension through you. “But you’re, uh…picky about your pens, aren’t you?” He asks, his voice softer now, almost unsure.

Laughing quietly, you say, “Yeah, but…that’s okay.” Your words are heavy with subtext you can’t bring yourself to say out loud. “Well, goodbye.” You offer him a smile, stepping back toward the door. “Thanks again.” 

“Yeah. Goodbye,” he says, but his feet shuffle forward as if he’s moving without thinking. Awkwardly reaching for a handshake, he realizes your hands are occupied. Instead, he reaches around you for the door handle, but he gets a tad too close and your brain scrambles. 

Before you can hold yourself back, you drop the pens, letting them clatter to the floor as your arms wrap around his neck. Your lips meet his in a rush, warm and soft. While your eyes close to savor the feeling, his widen in shock before he relaxes into your touch and wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. 

It’s everything you’ve been holding back—unspoken feelings unraveling in a heartbeat. His lips move against yours with a hunger that surprises you, the world melting away as you lose yourself in the moment. You feel weightless, your pulse racing as his hands grip your waist a little tighter, as though he’s afraid to let you go.

When you finally break apart, breathless and dazed, he presses his forehead to yours, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re never gonna use those pens, are you?” he asks, his voice low and rough, like he’s trying to anchor himself in humor, trying to bring himself back down to earth.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No,” you admit, your heart still pounding. “They’re garbage.”

Before you can think, you kiss him again and this time, he doesn’t hesitate. His mouth crashes into yours with an urgency, like he’s wanted to kiss you since the second he laid eyes on you. His lips are soft, but his kiss is demanding, making up for all the lost moments between you. For those few minutes, nothing else matters—you bask in one of the greatest kisses either of you have ever had. But not for long.

Reality catches up too quickly. You pull away suddenly, breathless and wide-eyed. “Oh my god—” you gasp, backing up, your fingers graze your lips trying to make sense of what just happened. “I’m so sorry—”

“No,” he interrupts quickly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. I—” He’s stumbling through his words, just as lost as you are but neither of you regret it. “I wanted—”

“That was…” You can’t even finish your sentence. It was everything. Too much, too fast, too real. But you can’t take it back.

“I—” He’s trying to find the right words, to reassure you, to tell you he felt it too, that he wanted it just as badly. But he’s as flustered as you are, his voice rough and unsure.

“I’ll just…go throw myself off a bridge now,” you mumble. You can’t even look at him as you make a beeline for the door, your face burning with embarrassment. You think you hear him say something, but the blood rushing in your ears drowns it out.

You leave the room quickly, your heart about to burst through your chest, trying to process what just happened. The kiss lingers on your lips, a mix of exhilaration and terror swirling inside you. It’s too much to handle.

But, hey, there’s one bit of good news. At least he kissed you back. 

-

What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Drop his class? It’s too late in the semester for that. And you need those credits. Wait until the end of the semester to talk to him again? Can you go that long without his lips on yours again? 

Back at your apartment, you rummage through your books to find the university’s code of conduct, hurriedly searching for anything related to “appropriate relationships,” “faculty-student relationships,” “consensual,” blah blah blah, whatever the university has coded sleeping with a professor.

The University strongly urges those individuals in positions of authority not to engage in conduct of an amorous or sexual nature with a person they are, or are likely in the future to be, in a position of evaluating.

Your eyes read over the words, “strongly urges” once more. Not totally against the rules, you suppose. Even if you did wait until the semester was over, you’d need to report it. You wish you could talk with him about it, but bringing this up is tricky. Is it moving too fast? You can’t text him, you don’t have his number. And using your student email to send a message to his faculty email that says, “Oh, by the way, I checked the rules and we’re in the clear to have sex!” is a terrible idea. 

Maybe one kiss in his office doesn’t mean anything. Oh, but it was everything. 

-

After much deliberation, you convince yourself to attend his class a few days later. You’ve brought the code of conduct along, as well as a bright pink post-it sticking out of the book. To avoid any form of small talk with him, you wait outside right until the start of class. 

Along the way to your desk, you silently plop the code of conduct on his desk and scurry away. When you work up the courage to look up at him, he’s flipped to the marked page. Highlighted on the page is the paragraph that “strongly urges” people in positions of authority not to sleep with students. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. The message couldn’t be clearer, he thought. You’re practically telling him to leave you alone. But when he finally reads the post-it, his heart flutters. Written in your handwriting, it says, It’s okay to fuck it up! complete with a smiley face. 

As much as he tries to fight it, he glances up at you to catch your gaze. And just as the slightest smile appears on his face, a big one appears on yours. You hide it with your palm as you start at the blank page of your notebook. Blinking, he shakes his head and begins his lecture. But how can you concentrate now? 

You’ve gotta give it to him, he delivers his lecture perfectly. If it were you, you’d barely be able to think. Hell, you barely can throughout the whole thing. 

Now that you’ve gotten that smile of permission, you finally let yourself daydream. 

Has his ass always been that cute? Has he always been that tall? Has his voice always been that deep and sexy? 

You don’t even know what he’s talking about, but that’s okay, you can always stop by his office hours. “What do you think?” He asks. 

Oh shit, he’s looking at you for an answer. He can always rely on you to keep class moving along when everybody else is dead silent. You shake out of your thoughts, panic-reading the board to come up with something. It's similar to your discussion you had the last time you went to his office hours. The time that ended in that gorgeous kiss. Throwing together an answer, his eyes brighten as he cheers, “Exactly!” 

Oh my god. He’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You could just gobble him up. 

-

“So, I suppose we should talk about…” Professor Choi trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like it’s obvious what he’s getting at. And it is. But you stay quiet. You wanna hear him admit it. You raise an eyebrow, playing coy.

You decided to press your luck by visiting his office outside scheduled office hours—right after class—to simply test the waters and gauge his reaction to the code of conduct and that kiss…that incredible kiss. 

“You know…” He gestures vaguely between the two of you, sighing like okay, fine, I guess I’ll say it. “I like you and you like me, right?” His voice dips just slightly, enough for you to notice the hesitation. “Unless I’m totally misreading—”

“No! You’re not…misreading anything,” you’re quick to say, along with a chuckle. Phew—he was worried there for a second. So goddamn cute. “What do you wanna talk about?”

He exhales a small laugh, but his smile is strained, cautious. “I want to make sure you don’t feel…weird about this.” Hand sliding nervously along the edge of his desk, he traces the wood grain before his eyes flick up to meet yours. Truth be told, he’d never do something like this with a student. Never want to make anyone feel pressured. But he never thought he’d feel like this. Giddy and blushy like you’re his first crush. 

“Why would I feel weird?” You tilt your head, genuinely curious. You’ve thought about this—about him—far too much for any of it to feel weird.

“I’m just terrified you feel like you need to do something about this.” You’re taken aback, confusion visibly etched across your face. “You know, because I’m your professor or because I’m in the department and I know your plans for a PhD here.” His voice softens, vulnerability creeping in. “I don’t want it to feel like I’m pushing you into anything.”

“I don’t,” you say gently. “It’s not like that.”

He nods, though the tightness in his jaw doesn’t disappear. “Because if you ever even remotely feel like I’m pressuring you, I want you to tell me. Immediately. I mean it.”

“No,” You shake your head, almost too fast. “I mean, it doesn’t feel like that. Not at all. I’ve thought about this…about us, a lot.” Your voice falters for a moment as his eyes widen, softening in a way that makes your stomach flutter. You weren’t expecting him to look at you like that—so open, so relieved.

His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to reach out to you. “Yeah?”

You nod again, more confidently this time. “But I think we should wait until the semester’s over. Before we…you know…do anything.”

He smiles gently and leans back, visibly more at ease. “I think so too.” 

But you didn’t realize how fucking difficult it would be to get through the last six weeks of the semester. Every class you sit there, thighs pressed together thinking about the dirtiest things you want him to do to you. Every office hour you went to, you could practically swim through the thickness of the tension between you two. 

It didn’t help how cute he was being. Post-its he’d leave on every exam of yours—You’re gonna do great! You’ve got this. Trust your instincts.—encouragement no other student got. You kept every one of them in your bedside table drawer. 

When finals week finally arrives, it wasn’t just about exams; it was about counting the hours until you could finally be with him. Or at least talk to him like he wasn’t your professor. As he handed over your final exam, the familiar green post-it note was stuck to it: Happy Finals Week! 

Your internal scream was so loud, you’re worried your classmates heard it. You’d pre-written a post-it to stick to it once you returned the exam. It had your phone number, a smiley face, and the words: Since you’re not my professor anymore. 

-

After a full day of checking your phone every twenty seconds, you started to give up. Was he just playing you? Did someone else see the note? Did he change his mind? But finally, you receive a text.

hi! this is soobin (professor choi lol). i was wondering if you wanted to get dinner or something?

soobin!! omg yes i would love to get dinner with you :) how’s tomorrow? 

how about right now? if you want, of course! no pressure we can totally wait until tomorrow it’s up to you

You squealed into your pillow, kicking and giggling like an idiot. Should you be flirty back? 

i can be ready in 30 min. 364 oakridge drive. it’s an apartment building- i’ll meet you downstairs. 

be there in 45 :) 

-

Like a perfect gentleman, Soobin meets you at the passenger door, swinging it open with a charming smile before gently closing it behind you. The slow walk up to his front door makes your stomach stir. He has to fumble through his keys to unlock it. 

Once inside, he slips his shoes off quietly, revealing cozy patterned socks that make you smile. Meticulously, he hangs his jacket on a coat tree and places his keys in a speckled clay catch-all that rests on a table next to a houseplant. As he walks toward the kitchen, he glances over his shoulder, his voice low and inviting. “Do you want a drink or something?” The warmth in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re drawn to this softer side of him. In class, his tone is bright and dorky. In his office, it’s casual and laid-back. At dinner, it was sweet and charming. But now? Now it’s sultry, almost sexy. Like he can’t wait to be with you but would never, ever pressure you. 

“Hot tea?” You suggest with a steady voice, despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“Sounds good,” he agrees, switching on his tea kettle. In the meantime, you take a look around his much neater than expected apartment. 

The mid-century modern furniture is impeccably arranged—a sleek sofa, a low coffee table, and a stylish armchair with an even more stylish decorative pillow. Perfectly nurtured plants thrive around the room, adding a green vibrancy to the minimalist backdrop, breathing life into the space. A gallery wall above his expensive-looking couch features travel photos, beautiful art, and a few subtly science-inspired pieces. In the corner across the couch is a sleek electric fireplace underneath a huge TV. 

“Who’s this?” you ask, your heart swelling as a fluffy gray cat glares at you through one half-open eye. Her perfectly groomed fur and regal posture make her look like she owns the place. Just then, Soobin steps into the living room, holding two steaming mugs of tea, filling the air with a warm spice. 

“That’s Molly…short for Molecule,” he says. “Don’t worry, she’s sweet.” 

Extending your hand toward the cat, he starts to sniff you. “Hi, M—wait,” you pause, looking up at Soobin with a teasing smile. “Molly, short for Molecule?” He nods, his grin widening. “You’re adorable,” you tell him. Has anyone ever blushed quite like he did just now?

He stares down at his feet, clearly caught off guard. “You’re,” he starts. “Well, you’re cute too.” His sincerity makes your smile grow even stronger.

“Can I sit?” you ask, nodding toward the couch.

“Oh,” his smile falters for a moment. “Yes, of course. Make yourself at home.” You plop down on his couch, settling into the surprisingly soft cushions. Molly clearly doesn’t think the couch is big enough for the two of you, so she strides over to probably the nicest cat tree you’ve ever seen.

You sip your hot tea and your body finally relaxes. As you reach to sit it on the coffee table, he politely asks, “I don’t mean to be a square, but can you use a coaster?” 

“Of course,” you say, complying with the request. “So, tell me,” you begin, clearing your throat. “How’d I do on my final?” Humming, he stands to rummage through his messenger bag slumped over a dining chair. You gasp, “A ninety-seven?” Thumbing through the pages, you find a single red X on possibly the easiest question you’ve had on an exam since high school: What is the atomic number of oxygen? “Are you kidding me?” 

Any attempt to mask your embarrassment is impossible. It only deepens when you look up and catch him already watching you—lips pressed tight, failing miserably to hide a smug, amused smile.  

“I, uh…” You scratch the back of your neck. “I got that one wrong on purpose. You know, so as to not raise any suspicion.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, did you now?” You nod. “That was on the exam just so Toby wouldn’t get a zero.” You nod begrudgingly. “And you put 10! That’s not even close. That’s—”

“Neon,” you grumble. “Yeah I know…” you say, avoiding his eyes as he laughs playfully. 

“Neon’s a noble gas and oxygen is a—”

“Reactive nonmetal,” you cut him off. “I know, okay?” You shove his shoulder playfully, but your grin betrays you. “It was a high-pressure environment. Sitting in an exam room with your professor watching you."

"I barely looked up from my laptop,” he reminds you. 

"Your presence is distracting enough," you shoot back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Ah, so my intellectual aura threw you off?”

“I dunno…is that what you think, professor?” You ask cheekily. “Maybe it was something else.” You’ve tossed the exam onto the coffee table, moving closer. 

“Like what?” 

“Just…you. You’re distracting.” You smirk, the words slipping out almost involuntarily, like they’ve been waiting on the tip of your tongue. 

Intrigued, he tilts his head and asks, “What about me?” There’s something magnetic in the way he looks at you—like he knows the answer but wants to hear you say it, to savor the way it sounds coming from your lips. 

You hum, tracing the lines of his body with your eyes, mapping out uncharted territory before exploring it. You don’t want to move too fast, but every fiber of your being screams for more. He’s not lighting a fire inside you—he’s setting the whole forest ablaze. Sure, your imagination has been running rampant since he returned your feelings six weeks ago, but now that you’re here, he scrambles every thought.

“Your eyes…” you say while yours flick over his face, taking in every curve, every freckle, every lash. “They’re so pretty.” 

A smile—small but real—tugs at the corners of his lips. The kind that’s private, meant just for you. His eyes darken as he leans in, the space between you shrinking. You glance down, noticing the way his long fingers curl around the mug handle. There’s something almost hesitant in the way he holds it. You take it from him gently, setting it atop a coaster as quietly as you can.

“Your hands…” you whisper, fingers barely brushing his knuckles, tension coiled under his skin. They’re hands that have worked, experimented, written things down—hands you want on you. Guiding one to your thigh, the squeeze he returns sends a shudder through you. 

Everything between you is electric. Your breaths come faster now, more desperate. Every inch you move toward him is a test, a slow-motion collapse of restraint.

“Your legs…” A soft breathless chuckle escapes as you glance down. His lips part like he’s about to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. Boldness surges through you like a current and you hike one leg over both of his, straddling him. The shift is seismic. His hands move to your hips, gripping you, afraid to let go. The heat of his touch spreads through you, anchoring you in place, though it feels like everything around you is spinning.

“And your lips…” you murmur, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his. “Oh my god, those fucking lips.” You can’t stop staring at them, just a breath away now, soft and wet. Your pulse races. 

You cup his face, lifting his chin until his eyes meet yours again. His pupils are blown wide, the desire in them unmistakable. Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, and the moment stretches, suspended. You lean in just enough to feel his breath on your lips. 

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

And he does.

It isn’t tentative—it’s dam-breaking. Like he’s been starving for it, holding back for years. His lips are soft but urgent as his hands tighten around your hips to pull you closer. You taste jasmine tea on his lips, a subtle sweetness mingling with the spice of his cologne—clove, pepper, something dark and addictive. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper against his lips. “I can’t believe I had to wait so long to kiss you again.” You kiss him again and he moans sweetly into your mouth. Just as the kiss deepens, he retreats, his breath ragged. “You okay?” 

Nervously nodding, he says, “Yeah,” but his eyes flicker away. He tries to kiss you again, but you place your hand on his chest, gently stopping him.

“Wait,” you say, eyes searching his face. “What’s going on? Am I being too—”

“No,” he says, almost a little too urgently. “It’s not that. It’s just…” His hands fall to the couch. Bracing to tell the truth, he squeezes his eyes shut before adding, “I need to tell you something.” You sit back on your heels, still in his lap but giving him room to speak. 

“What is it?” You ask softly. 

“There’s this thing… I haven’t—uh…” He stumbles over the words, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“Soobin?” you ask, your voice gentle but steady. That’s the first time you’ve called him by his first name. It feels utterly…vulnerable. “Are you a virgin?” The question is delicate. Shutting his eyes again, he takes a deep breath. 

“No,” he says. “Well, not exactly.” You narrow your eyes at him. What is that even supposed to mean? “It’s just…it’s been a while. And before then, I hadn’t had a lot of sex. And I haven’t had any…recently.” 

“How long?” you encourage, your eyes softening.

“A year.” 

You hum softly in acknowledgement, watching his confidence falter. Instead of pulling back, you lean forward, trailing slow, deliberate kisses along his neck. He trembles under your touch, a soft gasp escaping his lips, your hands moving all over his body, claiming him.

“Oh, Professor Choi,” you whisper, your voice dripping with heat and promise. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

-

As your breath slows, you sit up and let your hand linger over his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. “Tell me,” you start. “What do you like?” 

“Um,” he swallows, trying to force the lump down his throat. He’s so hesitant but he finally says, “Touching.” 

“You touching my body or me touching yours?” 

He exhales shakily. “The first,” he says, confirming with a squeeze to your hips. 

You hum against his ear. What are you gonna do with him? Tease him forever? Let him have his way with you? You ask, “Why don’t you take my shirt off for me?” 

Gracing his hands over your arms, he grounds himself again before asking, “You sure?” 

“I’m sure.” You nod, guiding his hands to the top button of your blouse, letting him slip it through the buttonhole. One by one, he exposes more of your skin, his heart thumping harder with each passing second. Pushing the silky fabric past your shoulders until your top half is only covered by a bubblegum pink mesh bra, leaving almost nothing to the imagination—except for the red embroidered hearts over your nipples.

After easing the shirt out from your trousers, you reach back to pull at the sleeves, letting the shirt fall to the floor. He slips his finger under one of your bra straps, pulling it to the side, but you stop him. “Wait. It’s your turn.” 

Tugging on his tie, you slip it through the collar and unbutton his dress shirt. Seeing his body bare in front of you for the first time, you’re practically drooling. You indulge in running your hands all over his body, lean with subtle muscles, from his chest to the bottom of his abs. 

“How come you got to touch me if I didn’t get to touch you?” He asks innocently. 

“You’re right,” you chuckle. “I’m sorry.” You smile and sit up to press your palms against his and let your fingers intertwine. Your heart melts and you fear you may throw up. “Did you want to take my bra off first?” He nods. Fumbling fingers reach behind you to snap it off, letting it fall to the couch. As he sees your bare tits, his eyes widen and he lets out the cutest little Oh. 

He’s hesitant to do anything. You have to guide his hands to massage your tits—and they’re the perfect size for you. 

“You’re so…soft,” he says, looking up at your eyes, like he’s not sure if that was okay to say. 

“You like them?” He nods eagerly. Experimentally swiping a thumb across a nipple, it hardens at his touch while you let out a sharp gasp. 

“You like that,” he says matter-of-factly. “Can I taste?” Nodding, you lean forward, welcoming his lips. His body finally relaxes as he moans against your skin. Circling the tip of his tongue around your nipple, he’s teasing you. And oh my god do you love it. 

One of your hands threads through his hair and you stuff the other down your pants, but he grabs your wrist softly. 

“That’s not fair,” he whispers and you concede, keeping your hands to yourself. With one hand, he stuffs your tit back in his mouth while the other plays with your other nipple. His hot, wet mouth on one nipple and his teasing fingers playing with the other sends waves of pleasure through you that may send you over the edge.

If you don’t do something to ease your need, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to take this. You resort to grinding against his hard cock, making his hips buck. 

Lifting your legs off his, you swing around to sit next to him, palming his cock over his trousers. Desperately clawing at the waistband, you unbutton and unzip his pants, encouraging him to kick them off. He stands to slip them off and as you reach for the band of his boxers, he stops you. 

“Your turn,” he whispers. And you comply. But not without a show. Standing slowly, you push him to the couch and turn your back to him. As you push your pants down, your ass looks delicious in your thong that matches your bra—mesh bubblegum pink with red trim. When you turn back, he’s fisting himself over his underwear. 

“Nuh-uh, that’s not fair,” you say. Returning next to him on the couch, you feel him over his boxers and your mouth waters. Goddamn you can’t wait for him to be inside you. “Do you have any lube?” He nods and shortly returns with a barely used tube. 

While he stays standing, you sit up on the couch, running your hands across his muscular thighs and perfect pelvis. Looking up at him, his eyes are bright, darting all over your body like he’s afraid to miss something. He fiddles with his waistband, flipping the elastic over softly. A small smile flicks across your lips before you tug his boxers down his legs, leaving trails of kisses along the way.

Encouraging him to sit down, you look down at his cock, long and hard and dripping with precum. Finally, you drag your fingertips up and down his cock before squeezing him. He moans like you’ve never heard a man moan before. Laying your head on his shoulder, you sprinkle kisses all over his skin, finding a spot behind his ear that makes him squirm. 

He hisses and—almost involuntarily—wraps one of his hands around yours to use his long fingers to guide your hand up and down. There’s something magical about someone with so little experience telling—no, showing—you what to do with his body. It’s electrifying. He hasn’t been touched in so long that he’s desperate to get off and can’t waste time with words. But no words need to be shared. His movements tell you what speed he likes. 

Snaking his other arm around you, he stuffs his fingers in your hair and clenches his fist, subconsciously tugging the strands. His lips are right against your ear, breathing rapidly and heavily and he can hardly take it anymore. You watch his chest rise and fall as he clenches your hair, moaning getting quicker, he squeaks and whines. 

Hurriedly pressing his lips to your temple, you can’t take your eyes off his cock as he shoots short spurts of cum all over his stomach. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath before he gives you a sweet smile. 

You don’t let up with kisses all over his body. Sprinkling kisses here and there while he cleans himself up with a hand towel he’d brought with him when he got the lube from his bedroom. Once he’s clean, he slouches down the couch. 

“Will you sit on my face?” His eyes are ever so sweet and innocent, like he’s finally able to test all his fantasies. “Please…” You hum like you’re only considering it, but we all know you’ll say yes. “Please, mommy?” Everything halts. 

“Mommy?” 

“F-fuck—” he sits up, ears turning redder than you’ve ever seen them—anyone’s ears for that matter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first—”

“No, no…” you say gently, cupping his jaw to make him look at you. You can’t help yourself—you press your lips to his again and you lose yourself in his intoxicating kiss. But you break it and say, “Keep calling me that.” 

“M-mommy?” You hum. Before you give him what he asked for, you shove your tit in front of his lips. He doesn’t need to be told what to do. His plush lips wrap around your hard nipple while he thumbs the other. It feels like fucking heaven.

“That’s my good boy.” He lets out the most pathetic whimper you’ve ever heard in your goddamn life. His eyebrows furrow, looking up at you through his lashes. “Are you my good boy?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly. “Yes, mommy. Of course.” 

“Soobin,” you breathe in disbelief, dropping your head back. “You’re so sexy, I swear to god.” 

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head. “That’s you.” He smiles. “Will you please sit on my face now?” He slouches down again without waiting for an answer. “Please.” You hike your leg up to rest your foot against the back of the couch, gently hovering over him. But he wraps his hands around your hips to yank you down. As he flicks his tongue over your clit, you might be embarrassed by the volume of your moan, but there’d be no reason to. 

“I thought you said you didn’t do this a lot?”

“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “This was always what I was best at.” You chuckle. “Wait, no—” he shakes his head. “I’m good at the other stuff too. I hope.” Returning his tongue to your clit, you gasp and fall forward, bracing yourself against the back of the couch. He seizes the opportunity to get fully entranced in your taste. 

There's an impossible contrast—your body melts, muscles soft and pliant as you surrender to the pleasure but, at the same time, goosebumps prickle along your skin, sharp and electric. Warmth and vulnerability layered with a thrill that leaves you shivering, somehow both at ease and on edge.

But then he snakes his hand behind your ass to tease your asshole with his pinky. And it's overwhelming. Your knees are so weak you can hardly hold yourself up. The way his hands feel on your body, touching you in all the right places, flicking his tongue perfectly, moaning so temptingly along with the built up tension—it is so much. So. Fucking. Much. 

It builds in your stomach—teetering on the edge and god you only hope he doesn’t stop what he’s doing. But you can’t form words to tell him that. But he knows. 

And then it happens. 

You feel like you’re floating—or falling may be more accurate—as your orgasm washes over you, thighs quite literally quivering around his face as you come undone on top of him. For him. Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you roll and plop to the couch and he sloppily replaces his tongue with his fingers. You make a mental note to show him exactly where your clit is later. How is it that he found it so easily with his tongue but missed it with his hand? You guess he was right—oral is what he’s best at. Your chest heaves with your deep breaths as you come down from your high, watching him smirk at you. 

“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. There’s a beat of silence. “What the fuck?”

“What?” He chuckles. 

“I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“I told you I’m good at it.” 

“Where’s your bedroom? This couch is too small for what we’re about to do.” 

Once he shuts his bedroom door to keep Molly out, he pulls you by your waist to press his bare body to yours and kisses you again so romantically it takes your breath away. 

“Wow,” he whispers against your lips. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Oh my god, shut up.” You go straight back in for more kisses. But you break it— “But not literally, though. Please keep saying stuff like that.” You giggle together, slowly falling toward the bed until you’re gently laid on your back and he’s over top of you. 

“Can I, like, kiss all over your body?”

“Of course,” you say. “You don’t need to ask.”

And then he does exactly what he wants. Starting at your lips, he moves to the corner of your mouth, trailing behind your ear and down your neck. The way his breath tickles your neck sends shivers down your spine and you need more, more, more. 

As you lay there, simply basking in the feeling of him taking his time exploring every inch of you with the softest lips you’ve ever felt, you can’t help but be giddy. He’s tentative in some areas and eager in others. After he kisses the sensitive skin under your breast, he carefully observes your reaction. When he delicately presses his lips to your pelvis, his eyes flutter up to yours nervously. 

“Soobin,” you say breathlessly. He hums against your tummy, shaky hands running up your thighs. “I need you please.”

“You need me?” You nod. “Where do you need me, mommy?” You groan, arching your back, not even knowing where to start. You need him everywhere. 

“Inside me,” you say. “Please, I’ve been thinking about it for so long.” 

“Have you?” He asks innocently, using his fingers to play with the folds of your pussy so casually, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. “I should be the impatient one.” But you know why he’s taking it so slow. He’s nervous as hell right now. 

Aligning his cock with your entrance, he slowly pushes himself inside you. And it's utterly exhilarating. For both of you. He falls forward, framing your face with his forearms, digging his nose into your neck. 

“Fuck…” He whispers shakily. Your nails drag down his back at his inexperienced hip rolls. “Oh my god, what are you doing to me?” Despite his inevitable desperation, his thrusts are controlled. He’s trying his very best at least. But his cock is so fucking perfect, you figure he’d make you feel good no matter what he does. Although, a little part of you thinks about how good he’ll be at fucking you in a few months after a little practice. Or lots of practice. 

He whispers swears, your name, and mommy…over and over again. Then he sits up, looking down at your body. Awkwardly fumbling as if he wants to say something, his mouth isn’t cooperating with his brain. He slowly comes to a stop, sliding out of you and barely touches your calf. 

“Can you, uh…would you mind, um—” 

"Do you wish to see me on my knees? Is that it, darling?"

“Yes, mommy…please, I’ve never—” 

“You’ve never had someone on their knees for you?” You ask and he silently shakes his head. “You’ve been such a good boy for me. Of course I’ll get on my knees for you.” You oblige to his request, turning yourself around and arching your back to give him a perfect view of your ass. He groans at the simple sight of your body. He swipes his hands over the swell of your ass, squeezing here and there. 

He clears his throat and asks, “What do I do?”

“Oh,” you chuckle lightly. “Just get on your knees and guide yourself in. Make sure it’s the right hole,” you say light-heartedly, trying to ease the tension a bit. 

But when he’s finally inside you again, it’s heaven. And he indulges in himself a bit—thrusting faster, harder, making your ass jiggle. The lewd sounds of his cock in your wetness and his hips smacking your skin makes it all the more erotic. But it doesn’t take long before—

“I like it better the other way, I think,” he says matter-of-factly. “Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay, babe,” you say, flipping back over and spreading your legs. And he slides right back inside you, letting his head fall back. But your tits bouncing are simply too tempting not to look at. They’re why he prefers it this way, so why not look at them as much as he can? He retreats a bit, opening his mouth like he wants to ask you something but he’s too shy. 

“What is it, baby?”

“I was just wondering if you…if you could—would you want to be on top?” His tone is genuinely sweet. “Like what position do you like?”

“Missionary’s my favorite too,” you say. “But I would, hm, I would really like to be on top for a bit.” Switching quickly, you align yourself over his cock and sink down on him so, so, so slowly, letting out a big sigh of relief. “Oh my god, Soobin. Are you fucking kidding me?” You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. The feeling stretches all the way to your toes. “I need to hump you like crazy for a bit,” you say with a chuckle. He nods like that’s perfectly fine with me, mommy. 

And you do exactly that—bounce on his cock as fast as your body lets you, relieving that built-up tension. Over the last few months, you wanted to jump his bones every time you were in the same room and that feeling never let up, like there was a tension thermometer in your body that was constantly stuck at boiling. 

But perhaps it was a bit more painful for him because an occasional rut up into you isn’t enough anymore. He holds your hips to keep you in place, fucking up into you as fast as he can. Head dropping back, he groans, your name leaving his lips. 

“Mommy?” His eyebrows furrow, looking utterly pathetic. “Let’s switch back. Please.” Hiking your leg over his hips, you land roughly on your back. Gently grabbing your hands, he pins them above your head, aligns his cock at your entrance, and slides inside you, rolling his hips so deliciously. As he kisses you, he swallows your moans. Trailing down your neck, he whispers, “Please tell me I’m making you feel good, Mommy.” 

Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you say, “Fuck, you’re making me feel so good.” 

Slowing his thrusts, he asks, “What else would you like me to do?” Smiling up at him, you rub his thighs. Waiting for an answer, he covers your collarbone in kisses, making his way back to your ear. After nibbling gently on your earlobe, he whispers, “Tell me how to make you feel even better.” Oof. Shivers. 

“Rub my clit,” you say. He sits up, fumbling with his fingers. “Use your thumb,” you giggle. “Wait.” Reaching for his hand, you let spit pool in your mouth before wrapping your lips around his thumb. Sucking on it, he looks at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Then he follows your instructions, rubbing your clit with his thumb while he fucks you, listening intently to every instruction, every a little to the lefts, up a little bit mores, and he never gets impatient. 

Your back arches impossibly high and you say, “I’m close, babe. Don’t stop.” You rub your own nipple, but he moves your hand out of the way, wetting his thumb with his own spit before circling it for you. 

Everything has been building to this moment. Staring at him in every lecture, longing for his touch. That kiss in his office was just the start of your addiction. Attending his office hours didn’t help, but you couldn’t stay away. You needed to be closer to him. To feel heat radiating off his body. To smell his spicy cologne. To watch his fingers wrap around his pen and wish they were wrapped around something else. 

All of it was for this moment right here. Cumming around his cock for the first time. You can’t wait any longer. There’s a white hot burning in your belly that’s getting more furious by the second. His name leaves your mouth in a yelp before fireworks explode inside you. 

Your legs shake around his waist as he fucks you through it, not changing a single thing. Overwhelmed with pleasure, you grab his wrist to stop him from rubbing your nipple to make sure it’s the most perfect orgasm you’ve ever had—not too much and not too little. 

And it’s neither. Instead, it’s perfection. You knew it would be. It seems to last forever but somehow not long enough. As soon as you finish, you miss it. 

Catching your breath, your vision clears up as you look up at him with a smile. He shyly asks, “How was that?” 

You take a deep breath and say, “Oh my god, that was so good.” Rubbing soothing strokes up and down your thighs, you can tell he’s getting impatient. But still—he’d never pressure you in a million years. 

Bending to kiss your neck again, he whispers, “Can I cum inside you?” You nod frantically. 

“Please.” 

“I have condoms if you want.” You think about it for a second. Really. You would love nothing more than to feel him fill you up. But it’s risky. “Mommy…” His hips slowly start moving again, encouraging a decision from you. “What are you thinking?”

“Cum inside me, please. Wanna feel all of you,” you say, rubbing his back. He smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss that sends your head reeling. He sits up and squeezes your thighs over and over, adoring the way your body feels in his hands. Soft and squishy and intoxicating. Licking your own thumb, you pinch and rub one of his nipples, making his mouth drop open. He didn’t even think of having his own nipples played with. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he gasps. You praise him, Cum inside me, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for me. I want you to feel so good for me, okay? And he’s rutting his hips into you roughly, using your body for his own pleasure. You simply can’t get enough. You want him inside you forever and ever. “You’re…” he trails off. “You’re gonna make me cum, Mommy.”

“Go ahead. Cum for me.” Like it’s a command, his hips stutter and his cum fills you up, warm and sweet and heavenly. Swears and other inaudible words you hope are compliments spill out of his mouth. Falling forward, he digs his face into your neck once more, twitching until he comes to a stop, taking deep breaths. 

You expect a warm smile to echo his warm cum filling you up but he stays put. In fact, he doesn’t move or say anything for quite some time. So much time passes that his cock has slipped out of you on its own, his cum leaking down the swell of your ass. 

You finally break the silence, “Are you okay?” He nods awkwardly. “Look at me.” He shakes his head. “What’s wrong?” He still won’t budge. “Soobin, what’s going on?”

“I’m embarrassed,” he whines.

“Huh? About what?” 

“Calling you mommy,” he finally sits up. “I was just caught up in the moment—I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Honey,” you giggle, sitting up with him. “I told you I liked it.” 

“You weren’t just saying that?”

“I don’t think I would’ve came that hard if I didn’t like it.” 

His eyes brighten before adding, “I guess so.” It genuinely was one of the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had. Surely, he has to know that, right? But wait— 

“Was it good for you?”

“Oh my god,” he’s finally relaxed a little, peppering your face with kisses. “That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had, I swear.” He stands, walking into his en-suite to get you a towel, damp with warm water. “So…” he starts awkwardly. “Should we, like, report this to the dean?” 

“Is that your way of asking me to be exclusive?” He blushes as you brush some of his hair behind his ear. “Because my answer is absolutely.” You press your lips together. “Although, can we hold off for a while? Just until next semester starts?”

“Be in our own little world for a bit?” He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re taking a break until next semester, right? Are you working right now?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I got a bunch of scholarships to pay for school,” you say proudly. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“Because I’m the smartest person you know,” you say cheekily. 

“No lectures until next semester, so I’m pretty much free.” He smiles, clearly wanting to say something more, but bites his tongue. “Can I ask you something?” You nod. “This may be moving way too fast, but do you maybe wanna spend the holidays here? With me?”

The next few weeks are a whirlwind. Both of you admit it’s too fast. But neither of you care. The fireplace roars as you decorate his Christmas tree together, wrapped presents, baked cookies, everything you could think of that ooey-gooey couples do. 

And of course, nightly sex is a bonus. You simply can’t get enough of each other. And you just about lose it when you walk into the kitchen on Christmas morning. He’s standing at the counter wearing a Santa hat, flannel pajama pants, and a black tank top making your favorite tea. 

“Ah, there she is! Good morning,” he says with a smile. You take a plate full of chocolate chip waffles from him. But not before he kisses you. Cupping your cheek, he pulls you into perhaps the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had. You can feel his smile on your lips. 

And everything feels absolutely perfect. You think you may be dreaming, but he feels so very real at this moment. And his voice is clear as day, “Merry Christmas.” 

[asterias-record-shop]

BINGOO! Can you please write a Miguel O’Hara sugar daddy story with prompt 15? I’m not creative enough to write a description for this but could you add a mention of the age gap? Miguel is Like 30 or something. Reader is young and wants money ofc. They met online and are meeting up irl. Thank youu

—𓆩[mi menté, cuerpo, corazón, y alma]𓆪—

I am so sorry anón honey, I got completely carried away!! I hope you enjoy it though!

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Modern AU! CEO! Sugar Daddy! Soft! Miguel O'Hara x Sugar Baby! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.1K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You loved being a sugar baby. Truly, you did. The only con was the fact that you had to get with someone who was literally a hair away from dying, so when Miguel found you, it was truly a saving grace. After a while, he made you cut off all of your other sugar daddies, easily matching what they give you and more. Things have gotten weird lately, though… and you’re not sure how to take it, even when he says everything is ‘strictly pleasure’.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and foul language || obsessive behavior || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship || possessive! Miguel || his wife and daughter do not exist anymore 🤍 like at all || Latina coded reader || featuring Jessica Drew as another CEO because we love her (spider-verse variant) || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship turned real relationship || i speak rancho spanish so i write rancho spanish, it ain’t google translate so it might not make sense- || miguel is lowkey an asshole so he is an asshole now || fighting || you make him fix himself || i’m ngl, i don’t know what the hell i did but i had fun and there’s smut so enjoy || this is so much more kinky than it initially was going to be- || kinda OOC Miguel || sub turned dom! reader || sub! Miguel || sounding || cbt || slight oral || praise & degradation || riding || non-protected sex || cumming inside || ending is supposed to be humorous I’m not weird ||

Finding a sugar daddy that wasn’t quadruple your age was hard. Very, very hard. What was wrong with men? Couldn’t they just become billionaires at twenty-five?

Bastards.

Oh, but then Miguel O’Hara came along. A man in his early thirties that absolutely towered over you at 6’9”, built like a fucking god with looks to match and wealth to pair.

In the beginning, though, you had your doubts, so many doubts. You didn’t know what made him drawn to you in the first place, mainly because you had over five sugar daddies and he easily matched the prices immediately and made you get rid of them. He easily matched all your prices, doing even more before purchasing a test to make sure you were ‘healthy’.

After that, everything else happened extremely quickly - him buying you a car, jewelry and clothes, but the most recent was having you move in with him in his extremely large mansion. The first thing you noticed was that he had nothing in his home that gave it personality. No pictures, just crazy expensive art and photographs of things that were also crazy expensive.

He didn’t even have plants. Or a dog. Or a cat, something to give him some sort of personality besides that stupidly hot face. And stupidly hot money, but that’s why he was at work while you were at a shelter, promising yourself that you’d take some sort of pet home. You had settled on a kitten, a tuxedo kitten with a little bow tie and a mustache, along with small little mittens on his paws.

He immediately curled in your lap, a giggle falling from your lips as you stroked the back of his head. “I’ll take this one… I’m gonna name him Hart.”

And with that, you took him home. You bought him his own bed and all of the toys he could ever want or need, and you sat in the closet you had made his room as you wagged the cat toy in front of him, Jessica on the phone.

“Y/N, I really think you’re going to kill him bringing that cat into his house!” She laughed, snacking on her latest craving.

“Oh, he won’t! You’re being overdramatic, he’s gonna love Hart,” you wiggle the stick some more, the kitten swatting at it as you heard Miguel’s loud voice yell out for you. “Oh! He’s here, I’ll call you later Jess! Love you!”

“Don’t get killed!”

You giggled as you hung up and quickly stood, running out and fixing your skirt. “Miguel!”

He was tired today, you could tell. His body was more tense than you had ever seen, the buttons at the top of his shirt undone and his tie loose with his blazer open. You paused, his clenched fists making you swallow slightly. You had your share of violent lovers, and you sure as hell weren’t going to have another.

“Hola, mi reina,” he whispered, voice hoarse as he set down his briefcase and his fists unclenched. He softly set his hand on your hip, kissing softly against your temple as he sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day.”

You inhaled as he softly pressed kisses down your temple around your eye, along the apple of your cheek. “Wh-What happened?”

He shook his head, his hands going from your hips to the pretty skin of your thighs that was exposed by the skirt. “Stupid idiots who don’t know how to fucking do their job.”

You hummed softly as you stroked the back of his head, twirling the locks of his hair with your fingers as you kissed his sharp jaw. You were already on your tiptoes, his hands supporting you as he ducked down. “I’m so sorry, Miguel,” you whispered as he let out a soft hum. “I uhm… I got something.”

“Ah si?” he responded, his hands slipping under your skirt to tease your pretty cunt. “Es esto, mi reina?”

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Lemme show you.”

He smiled as you dragged him along, pulling him toward the closet you turned into the kitten’s room before turning around. “You can’t get mad.”

He started to cross his arms, raising a brow. “Why would I get mad?”

“You won’t be mad because you can’t. That’s my whole point,” you say, nodding firmly. “Okay?”

“You can’t say I can’t get mad and expect me not to get mad.”

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, shaking your head as he hummed softly and leaned down. “Just… trust me.”

He hummed again as you opened the door, the loud mews of the kitten making his eyes widen. You felt your smile disappear as you inhaled, shaking your head as you turned around. “This is Hart! He’s a little spy,” you giggled, kissing the kitten’s small head. “H-He was named after-”

“I know who he’s named after, Y/N,” Miguel growled, glaring at the kitten in your hand. “Why is it in my house?”

“Our house,” you correct him, a scoff falling from his lips. “What?”

“My house,” he basically growled, stepping forward as you started to step back. “Just because I fuck you like a ragdoll and cum inside of you like a cumdump doesn’t mean that this is your house.”

You inhaled as you held the kitten closer to your chest, scoffing. “You’re a fucking bastard, Miguel O’Hara. This is strictly business as always, isn’t it? You fucking asshole.”

He scoffed as you went around him, shaking his head. “This is mine, Y/N! All of it!”

“It might be yours, Miguel, but you don’t want it! You keep this giant house full of nothing that you love, nothing that you care for! You don’t even have a damn plant here!” You yelled at him, inhaling as you sent him a glare. “You’re a self absorbed bastard, Miguel.”

“I have you here,” Miguel spoke, something that completely betrayed his previous words. “You’re… all I could ever need.”

“You don’t need me though. The only thing that you fucking need is a damn whore,” you shake your head, keeping Hart close to your chest. “I will get myself a lawyer to get myself out of this contract, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”

“Y/N, wait-”

“No! Fuck you!” You were already rushing to your room - which was sadly one you shared with Miguel - locking it before he could come in after you.

“Y/N, amor… mi amor, I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not!” You yelled, sighing. How could you ever think this would go any other way? “Just… go away!”

To be honest, you weren’t sure what made you think you could love him. Actually love him and have it reciprocated, but you didn’t want to leave. You had worked so hard in this relationship with Miguel, gaining his trust and what you thought was his love, for fucks sake you couldn’t lose it now. What he said just… got to you.

It wasn’t until you heard a soft knock that you unlocked the door, Miguel slowly stepping into the room. “What do you want?”

“I just… look at this,” he gave you the binder, swallowing. “If you uhm… look at it, it annuls our last contract… if you sign it, mi amor-”

“What, are you gonna try and bribe me?” I ask, softly scratching Hart’s ear before he gives you the binder.

“Perdóname, amor,” he whispers, slowly falling to his knees in front of you. You certainly weren’t expecting this. “Read it.”

“Summarize it for me.”

“It says that you own me,” he says, tilting his head. “Everything I own, you own. Everything I am is yours,” he takes your hand, softly kissing against your wrist. “I’m sorry… that it took me so long to see how important you are to me. Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, y alma.”

You swallow as you stare at the dotted line, looking down at him as he kisses your skin. “Tu cuerpo? Es mío?”

He groaned as your hand shapes his jaw, softly tugging on his hair as Hart jumped down, sauntering out of the room as though he knew what was about to happen. “Todo es tuyo, mi amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his hair so he’d stare up at you. “Todo lo que quieras, es tuyo. Nomás me digas y es tuyo. Todo, todo es tuyo.”

You hummed, sighing as you moved your hips to come off the bed slightly. “Show me. Show me that you belong to me and I’ll sign it.”

He hummed, sending you a smile as he started to kiss against your wrist. “Of course, mi reina.”

You smile slightly as he starts to tug off his shirt, carefully unbuttoning and kissing along your calf before slipping off your heels. “If this keeps going, Miguel, you need to know that I’m not putting up with your bullshit.”

“Ya se, mi reina,” he whispers, his tongue flattening up your thigh as he pulls down your skirt. “I’m aware.”

“I’m going to sign that shit in your cum.”

He laughed, nodding. “If that’s what you want to do, mi amor.”

You tilted your head down at him, raising a brow. “That raises no red flags?”

“No, they’re actually green.”

You hold back a laugh as he slowly stands up, already taking off his clothes before you put up a finger. “I’m in charge, right?”

“Yes,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What would you like me to do, hm?”

“Get on the bed,” you say, standing and slipping off your clothes. “Why are you just standing there? Go.”

Miguel smirked slightly, but followed your orders, his bare body looking perfect against the bed. “Well, what do you want me to do next, mi amor?”

You hummed, staring for another few minutes. “Get hard. I’ll be back.”

You go into your closet, but after hearing Miguel’s moans, you knew he listened to what you said. It wasn’t until you went into your drawer filled with sex toys did you know what you wanted to do - oh, you were going to make him sob. You grabbed the small silver toy you had never had the chance to use on him, biting your lip as you finished taking off the rest of your clothes and fixing your bra and underwear.

It was normal to makeup with Miguel with sex, then talk about what happened and why it should never happen again before you fell asleep, resulting in Miguel waking you up with breakfast in bed and another lavish apology gift.

When you walked out, you smiled when you saw Miguel bucking his hips into his hand, his thick cock dribbling precum out of his bright red tip. “Look how pretty your cock is, baby… so, so pretty.”

He lets out a dry laugh, groaning. “Oh yeah? Que vas hacer?”

You giggled, slowly sliding between his legs and taking out the metal sounding rod. “Voy a jugar con lo que es mío.”

He lets out a choked moan as the cold tip of the rod dragged in a circle along the tip of his cock, already lubed up so you wouldn’t hurt him, a giggle escaping your lips as you slowly pushed it into his cock. He lets out a choked moan as you laugh, watching as it slowly disappears inside of his cock.

“Hijo de su pinche madre,” he cursed, groaning as he bucked his hips, stomach clenching as you watched his body slowly fall to your mercy. “Amor, please, please- I'll be good, I just need to fuck you.”

“Cállate,” you ordered, giggling as you pushed it inside until the ring was showing, your mouth latching onto his balls and sucking softly. “Come on, be a good boy and fuck it.”

He cursed as he starts to roll his hips, following the sounding rod as he groaned loudly. One of your hands rubs along his thighs, giggling as you stared up at his face all scrunched and desperate. He really did make a good sub.

“Come on, don’t stop now, Miguel, you’re doing so good,” you move away from his balls but continue to cup them, moving so that his fat cock was settled on his abdomen and you rubbed your now bare pussy against his shaft. “Come on baby, I know you want to cum. As soon as you cum, I’ll put your cock in me and I’ll let you fuck me.”

He groaned loudly, almost growl-like sounds falling from his lips as he forced his hips to go faster, fucking into the sounding rod as he rubbed against your wet cunt. You couldn’t hold back your own moans, the friction of his cock perfect against your cunt and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.

“Amor, please, please!” He was begging to cum, even if he didn’t quite know it yet, a groan falling from your lips as you continued to squeeze and rub his balls. He had never been this quick to cum, and you knew you’d have to try this again soon. “I’m close, chingao, I’m close.”

You let out a laugh as you watch the sounding rod start to be pushed out, pushing it back in as he whined. “Not yet, amor mío.”

“Por favor, mi vida, necesito- fuck!” He screamed out as you continued to hump against his length, pushing and pulling the rod in and out of his cock.

“Say it again. That you’re mine.”

“Fuck, I’m yours! Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, corazón, y alma, ¡chingada madre!” He yelled out as you finally let go of the sounding rod, watching it pop out of his cock and a perfect, pornographic cumshot follow. You moved your hand from his balls, lifting your hips as you continued to pump his shaft. You watched as the pearlescent liquid spurts onto his toned abdomen, smiling before cupping your hand in front of his tip and gathering his cum.

He panted, watching as you slowly smeared it along your cunt and placed the sounding rod onto the nightstand. “Next time we need to go bigger.”

“Whatever you say, amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his cock to push into your cunt, another loud groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know,” you spoke, laughing slightly as you gasped. No matter how many times his cock was inside of you, you never got used to it. “Fuck, Miguel, It’s like you get bigger every time.”

“Maybe I do,” he smirked, offering that playful wording as you finally sat on his pelvis, groaning loudly. “Look at how perfect you look with my cock inside of you, mi reina. Fucking perfect.”

You whimpered, groaning as you started to roll your hips, his cock feeling as though it was deeper than it ever was. “N-No, no.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “No what, amor? Tell me.”

“Stop that,” you order, knowing damn well if he kept talking like that you’d soon be on your back begging for him to fuck you. That’s now how it was going to happen, not today. “I’m in charge. Not you.”

“I never said you weren’t, amor-”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips firmly to his as he held your hips, helping you rock onto his cock. “Stop talking.”

He laughs as his other hand pulled you in for another firm kiss, your hands searching for the contract before his hips slam up into you. You pulled away, gasping as he lets out a loud groan, cursing. “Thought you needed some help, mi amor.”

Your hands claw against his shoulders as he keeps your chest pressed to his, using his strength to easily thrust up into you. For fucks sake, he couldn’t even let you have this, but you weren’t complaining as he grunted underneath you and you felt his cock rub against every place you ever wanted him to be. He repeatedly thrusted into you at that perfect rate to hit that spot inside of you that just made your body go limp, stomach twisting and turning.

One of the pros of having a man who knew your body like the back of his hand was that you could always count on him making you cum.

You gasped as his cock finally thrusted against that perfect spot that easily made you come undone, mind blurring as you basically see stars right as your nails dig into his skin. Your cunt clenched and squeezed his cock as a result of your orgasm, a hissed groan falling from his lips as he thrusted a few more times and finally came inside of you.

Your eyes rolled back, the added feeling of his cum spurting inside of you, filling you up as your inner thighs started to register slight heat from the power of his thrusts. You panted as you started to sit up, Miguel letting out a slight laugh before you grabbed the sounding rod and the contract.

“Q-Qué estás haciendo?”

You looked up at him, giggling as you dipped the rod into his cum. “I said I was going to sign it with your cum.”

“Mierda, Y/N, don’t do that!”

“What?! You think I was joking?! I said it was a red flag!”

Thank all of you so much for supporting me!! Even though Bingo requests and Bingo itself is done, I have my next event already planned - please stay tuned!! Requests are closed but they will be open when I clear my inbox, and again, thank all of you so much!!

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© asterias-record-shop

[randomfoggytiger]

Hello Tiger,

I've never spoken out on this subject and I'm not going to again, but seeing Sunday's discussion, I can't remain silent. We have different concepts of what it means for a young woman to “thrive” and what it means for a man to assume a relationship openly, without looking like a deer in the headlights every time he is seen with his partner. So far, so good. As for the glaring age difference, it's controversial, but it's not the end of the world either. But what about the fact that a 55-year-old rich man goes after a 22-year-old girl, enters into a sexual relationship and brings her to live with him? 22 years! Do we have a different concept of that too? Is a 55-year-old man with a 22-year-old girl acceptable to you? For me, there's no justification - I'm still a fan of Mulder, but only of the character. For now. Please don't be offended: I'm a long-time reader of your site and even though I don't agree with your position on this subject, I enjoy reading it very much and I appreciate your willingness to write about the series. I wish you a happy 2025!! 🙏

I'm not offended, don't worry. :DDDD Age gaps relationships boil down to whether an individual can stomach that sort of dynamic or not; and no amount of logic or reasoning is going to dissuade a gut reaction. So, I get it when others can't stand it.

And thank you for the compliments! I try to keep church and state (my irl opinions and the series' meta) separate. ;)))

My Thoughts

I don't mind age gaps because I've seen/heard them done successfully-- however, those successes are incredibly rare. Stereotypically, it involves someone younger with someone older, and there's usually money to some degree. Exploitation is a huge risk to watch out for; and I've found the toxic relationships have two prominent factors in common: A. they quickly lock down a younger individual by knocking her up, thus making it harder for said individual to leave; and B. they dangle and lie and push off the type of commitment the younger individual expected, dragging on the process as long as possible while demeaning and belittling the younger person's sense of identity.

Why am I okay with David and Monique?

First off, we don't know how old Monique was when she and David began dating. She first appeared publicly at The X-Files premiere (with her friends and boss from the smoothie shop) in 2016. The two didn't appear publicly together until 2017; and I'm pretty sure she was on set a time or two while S11 of the Revival was filming. She would have been 24 or 25 then.

However, let's assume they began dating in 2015 when she was 22 (after she followed Brad on Twitter or Instagram, I can't remember which): I would immediately raise my eyebrows and go on the defensive. That would lead me down a long rabbit hole of questioning and double questioning; and I would have to arrive at a final conclusion with some sort of evidence to indicate if this was a predatory, creepy, weird, neutral, positive, or healthy relationship-- part of that process would include looking at relationships outside of the two primary "targets": kids, family members, exes, etc. Which I did, because there was a lot of ruckus (on Tumblr, sometimes Twitter) about the nature of their relationship. Next, I would look at the individuality of the people involved: was there an improper balance between the two-- was one beholden to the other? Speaking of which--

Secondly, I long suspected Monique had independence of some form apart from him-- her Instagram posts didn't change substantially after they moved in together except to now include him; she hangs out regularly with her friends; she has hobbies and interests outside of the relationship; etc., etc.-- and confirmed my suspicions yesterday with an old interview. Her parents, per the interview, were well-off enough to give her horse riding lessons... and ice skating lessons... and tennis lessons... and violin lessons... and soccer lessons, all at once (?) She traveled the world for tournaments before meeting DD.

Regardless, I just don't see David as the type to leave an ex high and dry after they part ways-- he went above and beyond to pay alimony and his kids's expenses post divorce (at apparently higher rates than is usual for his $$ bracket in NY, if I recall), and he brings all his past associates, exes, and family forward in his projects. Even if one wanted to write off their relationship as a sugar baby transaction, MP would still have the ability to network as DD's ex after taking the assets both would split post- (potential) separation.

Now, for the moral/ethical aspect: while many are against and few for the idea of age gaps, I-- personally-- weigh each case individually. Most celebrity age gaps are based on transaction, but knowingly. Leonardo DiCaprio, for example, dates only women younger than 25; but his girlfriends seem aware of that fact, and he markets them and their careers pretty generously (comparatively) so that they're established as models or socialites or etc. etc. etc. by the time the relationship comes to a close. (I've never heard one speak badly of him, but there's always that possibility.) If there is exploitation there, it's at least propagated by both parties.

In David and Monique's case, she hasn't used her relationship with DD to market this or that venture-- despite speculation that she would-- but doesn't hide it, either. He, meanwhile, brought her everywhere with him; introduced her to friends, acquaintances, and professionals along the way; and snapped countless photos of her and let her snap countless photos of him. They seem-- on a surface level-- to be attached, in love, and secure in each other. Not to the same degree that he and Tea had, but he's not the same man post- public "sex scandal" and (especially) divorce. And having gone through countless paparazzi pics of the two of them over the years, I've noted that he doesn't treat her differently than any previous "private citizen" ex, and initiates more physical contact in public than she does.

Swinging back around to the moral/ethical argument, is it right that a man thirty years MP's senior should date her-- one with kids, no less? It depends, to me. What is the health of the relationship? What is the health of their relationships outside of that relationship? Are they growing and changing or stagnating and regressing? I've seen both seem to progress rather than regress-- he and his directorial and podcast efforts, she and her arts and crafts and flower business. He and his kids seem to have a solid, loving, loyal relationship even after she joined his life; he and Tea have a cordial, publicly supportive, even loving relationship after their divorce; and he never seemed to abandon his responsibilities to his mom in her last years on earth. As for Monique, she and her friends and family seem (don't have too much information to glean from here) to still have a solid, loving, loyal relationship; she seems to keep out of business that doesn't concern her (DD and Tea's co-parenting); and she seems to not push his kids into compromising or uncomfortable situations.

As far as age gap relationships go, this appears pretty drama free, even-keel, and seemingly positive and healthy-- 'healthy' as in there are numerous signs of personal growth from both parties.

Personally, I think people settle into relationships where they feel most at home, or ones that reflect where they are in their personal lives. Those dynamics could be healthy or wickedly unhealthy; but they're where the person wants to be. (It's up to family and loved ones to rescue an abuse victim, of course, but that person picked someone who reflects how they feel about themselves in their minds, for example.) I don't know what initially drew Monique and David to each other-- maybe she makes a mean green smoothie. Maybe he has a ton of money she likes to spend (though their rather unglamorous lives, factored in with her parents' more-than stable finances, leads me to take this with a grain of salt.) All I know is what I've seen written up on the internet-- that Monique "saved him, in a way" (said a close friend-- who was not a bootlicker, because she also had biting criticisms of David to share)-- or leaked online-- that DD is MP's world and she loves him.

So, in conclusion: I'm very skeptical of any relationship-- age gap or otherwise-- and need to see proof before I believe that two people are actually in love or thriving. Furthermore, it's their business; and as long as his kids aren't feeling neglected, abandoned, or "less than", and as long as there isn't abuse, manipulation, or control, then I figure let the two in the relationship sort themselves out. ;))))

[findyourrp]

Hello! ❤️ M here seeking F partner for slow-burn, story-based, plot-heavy, sweet but dramatic, romantic roleplays, with a healthy dash of spice when the time is right. As a result, all partners must be of legal age.

As a warning, I'm pretty vanilla, so if you're looking for a partner to engage your wild kinks, I'm probably not your guy. This is not to say I don't have kinks – I do – but even those kinks, I prefer to arise in the course of a sweet romantic story. You can, of course, ask if I'm interested in yours as long as you don't mind me being honest. And if you/we can find a way to incorporate such a kink into something rather sweet and romantic, well, awesome. 

You can try to suggest a fandom, and you might turn out to hit just the right idea to make me geek out, but I'm mostly into non-fandom roleplays, modern setting, either 100% realistic or with some fantasy elements.

As for what I like, I dig age gap roleplays; on a related note, I'm going to be hard to convince to play someone younger than, say, 25 or so. I'm more comfortable playing between 30 and 45, really. I also dig my partner either playing pregnant to begin with, or ending up so in the course of the roleplay. And let’s not forget: forbidden love and/or taboo relationships are just *chef’s kiss* – as long as, see above, they’re still sweet and romantic. The rest of what I like would probably mean I need to mark this post, so if you’re interested, ask. I do NOT do bathroom stuff, cruelty, injury, or non-con/dub-con.

I'm not strict on literacy, as long as it moves the story forward, but I'm most comfortable in the 2-4 paragraph range. This is not to say that a single paragraph might not get all the plot motion done; it’s also not to say I won’t get carried away and write a freaking novel. Both have happened.

I'd prefer we end up on Discord, but if you want to hammer stuff out here then move over when we're about ready to start, that would be splendid.

And also, I do have a few prompts (and solo writing, and math nerdery) on my Tumblr, so if you want to take a look, please feel free.

Just so everyone knows: I'm not here for anything in real life. All I really need to know is, are you of legal age irl. Beyond that, I like being friends with my partners, chatting about random stuff, sharing funny memes, but there won't be a lot of identifiable information and there almost certainly won't be irl pics shared. I'm here to play, not be myself.

I think that's about it for now, so please feel free to message me for my Discord!

.

[djsherriff-responses]

I can't stop thinking about how Bullfrog would feel about Dolph having a past relationship with Ramon and the implications of that, because the manga sure did put a lot of Dolph ships into a really uncomfortable perspective and it's not even been released yet

Dolph was 19 when he and Ramon had a brief but consenting relationship and this is going with an alternative season one ending where the three team up for context to this post

Also to clarify: don't support this type of relationship irl and this is purely an exploration of a fictional situation with fictional characters. I'm not gonna get graphic with this but it will be touching on uncomfortable topics involving age gap relationships, drugs , alcoholism , slight dubious consent involving those substances and general nonsense that celebrities get away with. Please don't read further if that makes you uncomfortable especially if you're a minor, please stop reading this and go watch a Rayman play through instead

We don't know exactly what Bullfrog's upbringing was like but we can make a bet it was at least more "normal" and stable than Dolph's, and because of that Bullfrog is more aware of what a healthy and unhealthy relationship is (as well as him being an outsider with a different perspective then Dolph's)

Ramon is the one to spill the beans, because Dolph rarely ever wants to actually talk about his issues

Bullfrog has .... a lot of conflicting feelings upon learning that information. Confused on how either of them even got to that point. Disgusted and Angry at Ramon because hey, Bullfrog thought Ramon was a FRIEND who needed his support, how DARE RAMON do that!? How DARE Ramon expect Bullfrog to be friendly with him after telling him all that!? Especially after the Pey'J situation

But also saddened by what Dolph had gone through, and also guilty for feeling more intense about the situation then Dolph

Ramon starts off treating it more as a naughty little thing he did then the seriously messed up situation it was, I mean, all the other celebrities had hot young partners and secret affairs so it wasn't weird, its a normal thing on earth, right?

But after distancing himself from stardom and learning the full extent of how his face was used to train child soldiers , how Dolph was taken from his own parents to be one oy those soldiers, remembering how often he and Dolph got drunk and used drugs before... Before they.... It really dawned on Ramon then just how horrible the power imbalance was between him and Dolph and it makes him feel (justifiably) sick with himself

Dolph probably expresses his opinion on it the least as he didn't see it as any different to his other relationships (Like Alex) and just wants the topic dropped, especially since Bullfrog keeps looking at him with pity. Though Dolph is probably more effected by it and other relationships he had then he even realises

When Ramon tries to apologise it just , makes Dolph really annoyed and pissed off because "hey I was a consenting adult you ass" and he just wants to move on already and Ramon repeatedly trying to say sorry and bringing up all the awful things that happened between them is just making Dolph more uncomfortable by the second

.... Other than ripping off BoJack horseman idk where to go from that

TBH I probably won't touch on this particular way to portray Dolph and Ramon's relationship but I did want to throw these out the window

[findroleplay]

Hello! M here seeking F partner for slow-burn, story-based, plot-heavy, sweet but dramatic, romantic roleplays, with a healthy dash of spice when the time is right. As a result, all partners and characters must be of legal age.

As a warning, I'm pretty vanilla, so if you're looking for a partner to engage your wild kinks, I'm not your guy, alas. (You can, of course, ask if I'm interested, as long as you don't mind me being honest.) Also, you can try to suggest a fandom, and you might turn out to hit just the right idea to make me geek out, but I'm mostly into OC's, modern setting, either 100% realistic or with some fantasy elements.

I dig age gap roleplays, and on a related note, I'm going to be hard to convince to play someone younger than, say, 25 or so. I'm more comfortable playing between 30 and 45, really. I also dig my partner either playing pregnant to begin with, or ending up so in the course of the roleplay. And let’s not forget: forbidden love and/or taboo relationships are just *chef’s kiss*. The rest of what I like would probably mean I need to mark this post, so if you’re interested, ask. I do NOT do bathroom stuff, cruelty, injury, or non-con/dub-con.

I'm not strict on literacy, as long as it moves the story forward, but I'm most comfortable semi to para.

I'd prefer we end up on Discord, but if you want to hammer stuff out here then move over when we're about ready to start, that would be splendid.

And also, I do have a few prompts (and solo writing) on my Tumblr, so if you want to take a look, please feel free.

Just so everyone knows: I'm not here for anything in real life. All I really need to know is, are you of legal age irl. Beyond that, I'm cool with being friends, chatting about random stuff, but there won't be a lot of identifiable information and there almost certainly won't be irl pics shared. I'm here to play, not be myself.

I think that's about it for now, so please feel free to message me! My Discord is:

Tha mi beò fhathast#9728

-

[inthecarpets]

Respectfully, I don't think there's a positive to people beginning to believe that adults and minors can /never/ have a healthy, platonic relationship with each other. Which is what the moral panic about age gaps has resulted in. It ironically makes it much easier for minors to be preyed upon, because if they don't know what /is/ a healthy dynamic with an adult, they will often not realize what is dangerous behavior. Minors need healthy and normal relationships with adults. It's how we teach the next generation.

And the idea that age gaps between adults in innately problematic is.. That just ain't the hill anyone should be dying on.

Where have i said that adults and minors can't have a healthy platonic relationship with each other? I don't remember that, please quote me.

+ I just reminded mself, Idk if it's just me, but when i was a kid, irl there was a saying "Don't speak to strangers". "You can speak to family, friends of family, school staff, but don't speak to strangers. You don't know them, we don't know them. Don't trust strangers". Kids almost never listen, but wellp, there was a saying like that in my part of the world.

Personally i think this should be applied online a bit more. Not as in "you may not speak at all cost" as it'd be impossible, but as in warning, "you'd rather be wary not get too close, and not speak too much of yourself, because even if they might pose as friends, it's all strangers. They might be good people, and they might be bad people".

I believe lot of these hyper online kids very likely still have to interact with adults irl and have family friends or neighbours be kind and nice to them, got teachers they greatly appreciate; And simply don't realise that bc online discourse funsies.

They got Some kind of examples to see what's appriopriate and what not.

Have i said that age gaps between adults are innately problematic? Have i said that?

I wrote that i have seen people get into relationships that were unhealthy due to the age gap. Sometimes people negatively use said age gaps, while unaware or aware. It was always a problem. Pre internet and during internet age.

The situation where kids go full fighter over it is new tho so i wouldn't judge it as much yet. I don't know.

Relationships with age gaps can have their problems. Some don't have to have them, but they still can have them. A 20yo dating a 30 or 40 year old might be in a situation that is not exactly healthy for them due dynamics. It's legal tho! There is lot of relationships like that. Some of them even work in loving way! Good for them! And some of them don't.

And i don't think we should deny there might be problems. And that some people join such relationships without much of awareness of those problems.

[yetanotherrpfinder]

Hello! M here seeking F partner for slow-burn, story-based, plot-heavy, sweet but dramatic, romantic roleplays, with a healthy dash of spice when the time is right. As a result, all partners must be of legal age.

As a warning, I'm pretty vanilla, so if you're looking for a partner to engage your wild kinks, I'm probably not your guy. You can, of course, ask if I'm interested, as long as you don't mind me being honest. And if you/we can find a way to incorporate such a kink into something rather sweet and romantic, well, awesome.

You can try to suggest a fandom, and you might turn out to hit just the right idea to make me geek out, but I'm mostly into non-fandom roleplays, modern setting, either 100% realistic or with some fantasy elements.

As for what I like, I dig age gap roleplays; on a related note, I'm going to be hard to convince to play someone younger than, say, 25 or so. I'm more comfortable playing between 30 and 45, really. I also dig my partner either playing pregnant to begin with, or ending up so in the course of the roleplay. And let’s not forget: forbidden love and/or taboo relationships are just *chef’s kiss* – as long as, see above, they’re still sweet and romantic. The rest of what I like would probably mean I need to mark this post, so if you’re interested, ask. I do NOT do bathroom stuff, cruelty, injury, or non-con/dub-con.

I'm not strict on literacy, as long as it moves the story forward, but I'm most comfortable in the 2-4 paragraph range. This is not to say that a single paragraph might not get all the plot motion done; it’s also not to say I won’t get carried away and write a freaking novel. Both have happened.

I'd prefer we end up on Discord, but if you want to hammer stuff out here then move over when we're about ready to start, that would be splendid.

And also, I do have a few prompts (and solo writing, and math nerdery) on my Tumblr, so if you want to take a look, please feel free.

Just so everyone knows: I'm not here for anything in real life. All I really need to know is, are you of legal age irl. Beyond that, I like being friends with my partners, chatting about random stuff, sharing funny memes, but there won't be a lot of identifiable information and there almost certainly won't be irl pics shared. I'm here to play, not be myself.

I think that's about it for now, so please feel free to message me! My Discord is:

last_best_hope

Like if interested!

[storymaker14]

Hello! M (35+) here seeking F (18+ required; 25+ preferred; 30+ even better) partner for slow-burn, story-based, plot-heavy, sweet but dramatic, romantic roleplays, with a healthy dash of spice when the time is right. As a result, all partners and characters must be of legal age.

As a warning, I'm pretty vanilla, so if you're looking for a partner to engage your wild kinks, I'm probably not your guy. This is not to say I don't have kinks – I do – but even those kinks, I prefer to arise in the course of a sweet romantic story. You can, of course, ask if I'm interested in yours as long as you don't mind me being honest. And if you/we can find a way to incorporate such a kink into something rather sweet and romantic, well, awesome.

You can try to suggest a fandom, and you might turn out to hit just the right idea to make me geek out, but I'm mostly into non-fandom roleplays, modern setting, either 100% realistic or with some fantasy elements.

As for what I like, I dig age gap roleplays; on a related note, I'm going to be hard to convince to play someone younger than, say, 25 or so. I'm more comfortable playing between 30 and 50, really. I also dig my partner either playing pregnant to begin with, or ending up so in the course of the roleplay. And let’s not forget: forbidden love and/or taboo relationships are just *chef’s kiss* – as long as, see above, they’re still sweet and romantic. The rest of what I like would probably mean I need to mark this post, so if you’re interested, ask. I do NOT do bathroom stuff, cruelty, injury, or non-con/dub-con.

I'm not strict on literacy, as long as it moves the story forward, but I'm most comfortable in the 2-4 paragraph range. This is not to say that a single paragraph might not get all the plot motion done; it’s also not to say I won’t get carried away and write a freaking novel. Both have happened.

I'd prefer we end up on Discord, but if you want to hammer stuff out here then move over when we're about ready to start, that would be splendid.

And also, I do have a few prompts (and solo writing, and math nerdery) on my Tumblr, so if you want to take a look, please feel free.

Just so everyone knows: I'm not here for anything in real life. All I really need to know is, are you of legal age irl. Beyond that, I'm cool with being friends, chatting about random stuff, but there won't be a lot of identifiable information and there almost certainly won't be irl pics shared. I'm here to play, not be myself.

And speaking of real life, I have one. Occasionally I am busy, or just don't have the time, energy, or oomph for replies. Real life will always come first, and I have made the choice to not allow myself to stress about needing to reply immediately. I will reply, of course, just when I can. If that's going to be a problem, then I recommend not wasting your time or mine.

I think that's about it for now, so please feel free to message me!

[dokoni-mo]

Crave: Part Five || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: saving face can be hard.

mild NSFW

word count: 5419

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 william is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, willy is obsessive, possessive too, and a little creepy, and a hypocrite, and narcissistic lol, and a little bit of a yandere, or at least becoming one, mentions of divorce, dysfunctional parent-child relationships, secret relationships, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation tactics, dom/sub undertones if you squint, willy is VERY egotistical, allusions to corruption kink, sir kink, sensual touching, dirty fantasies, praise, Michael is in this, breif violence, heated arguing

minors dni// please read warnings!!

part one // part two // part three // part four

a/n: willy is so fun to write he is horrible but it is FUN,, taglist open! Enjoy! (disclaimer: i do not condone this type of relationship irl, this is just my take on being with Willy)

~~~

Aside from the moments that he was close to you, William never felt like he was able to be alone with his own thoughts. Unless, he was in his basement workshop, surrounded by his own creations where that brat Michael couldn't bother him.

That's honestly why he spent so much time down there, when he wasn't on-the-clock at his diner. If Michael didn't catch him in another screaming-match, William was almost always tinkering away in his little sanctuary from the outside world. He had built everything in that cellar himself. Every robot, every trinket, and even the entire basement itself from the ground up. When he first moved into this house, he knew his family would annoy him. He wasn't fond of having that bitch nag him all the time while three snot-nosed brats ran around his feet. He knew he needed a place to escape to, to cool down before things escalated.

It was a place to collect his thoughts in a healthy manner. And now, it had a different purpose. It was a place where he could think of you.

Michael was annoying as shit. He had been all his life, but he was especially annoying that afternoon. He had told his father that he'd be back home Monday morning, not Monday evening. That threw off all of William's plans; made him miss out on valuable time with his precious bunny. With you. All because of Michael and his inability to have any sort of cognitive thought.

If William had known that his son would be home late, he would've had you stay for a while longer. Convince you to skip your classes and spend them in his arms. But, no. As soon as the sun shone through his windows that morning, William had to get you out of bed and out the door with one last kiss goodbye out of fear that his idiot son would catch the two of you. And oh how it hurt him. The ache in his chest still hadn't gone away from earlier. He could still feel your touch on his shoulders and arms, and the way your waist and hips felt on his hands. It hurt so fucking much watching you go, knowing it'd be five whole days before he got to see his bunny again. When he kissed you goodbye, he knew he lingered a bit longer than he should've; held you for longer, too. You had caught it. Teased him for it with a smile so adorably.

Oh, bunny. Your smile. That's what kept William going. That's what kept him willing to keep these charades of good father, good businessman going. Was to make sure you had a happy life. That he could give you all your little heart desired. Money. A nice house. A nice car. Clothes. Gifts. Him.

It was more bearable now that you were his, yes. But it was still painfully boring without you by his side. There to kiss him and cuddle up close to him, looking at him with those big, gorgeous eyes. Tell him all sorts of gossip and stories around your campus. Listen to his own while he held you tight, stroking your hair and feeling your warm little body close to him.

God. He fucking missed you. It hadn't even been twelve hours since you were last there in his arms, and his body and heart already ached for your presence again. He yearned for your touch; to feel your soft, smooth skin against his. He wanted your lips against his own. He wanted to hear you laugh at his jokes. He wanted to feel your hair between his fingers. He wanted to squeeze those delectable thighs. Kiss your neck and leave his mark on you. Hear your little moans and how you cried out his name so pretty...

William sighed as he reached the bottom of the staircase to the cellar, greeted with the familiar expanse of his workshop. He took the papers that he carried down there and plopped them on a corner of his workbench, not caring to do any more work at the moment. The older man pulled up his chair and sat, running his fingers through his grey-and-brown hair.

Why. Why was fate so cruel? He only wanted his bunny with him. Was that too much to bloody ask for? Fuck he missed you so much. It was gonna be hell waiting until the weekend again.

He needed to take his mind off of it. Sitting around and moping was just gonna make it worse. He knew you wouldn't want him to be miserable. You loved him. He knew that if you could, you'd be here in the basement with him, sitting on his lap and giving him kisses. Telling him it was all gonna be okay while your plush thighs and butt were pressed against him.

William felt one of his hands detangle from his hair, sliding down on top of his clothed crotch.

His sweet bunny. His adorable (Y/N). He loved you so so much. Your kisses felt so good on his skin; so warm and soft. Just like you were. You were so perfect for him, bunny. You always knew exactly what he needed. Sitting on his lap so pretty for him. Don't his hands feel so good on your waist? So big and strong, a feeling only his hands give you, yeah? His hands are the only ones allowed to touch you, bunny. Did you understand that? You were his, and only he was allowed to play with you like this. Come on now, don't be shy. Lay back on William's workbench for him. Silly little one, don't be afraid to knock things off. Sir will allow it to happen. He wants you now, those silly little tools can fall all they like. That's it, there you go. Good bunny. So perfect for sir. Let's get those clothes off you now, yeah? They're just in the way of what he wants. He'll do it for you, bunny. Strip you down just for him. Just relax and be good. Ah fuck. His precious (Y/N). He misses you so fucking much, little one. Be a good bunny and-

William's fantasy was interrupted by the sound of the basement door flying open from the top of the stairs, making him jump from the sudden noise. The brit adjusted himself in his pants and smoothed back his hair as he looked over his shoulder with a glare, seeing who the rude intruder was.

William felt his brow furrow even deeper

Fucking hell. Michael. Of fucking course.

That boy just didn't know when to quit, didn't he? Stupid fucking idiot. Mike was not going to win that damn argument. He's such a fucking hypocrite. Accusing William of starting shit, and then goes off and starts shit himself.

His son was just like that bitch of an ex-wife he had. No wonder he fucking hated his son just as much as he did her. Perhaps even more.

"What do you want? I'm working-" William tried to say to scare his son off, but was rudely interrupted. As Michael stomped down to the bottom of the stairs with a sneer, the young man threw some sort of cloth at his father's face. William tried to block it away, but wound up catching the offending garment instead.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Michael shouted at William, louder than the brit ever heard before. William was a bit taken aback by the sudden hostility, swiveling on his chair to face his son more directly with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know wha-"

"DONT fucking play dumb with me, you DEMENTED fuck!" Michael yelled again, the young man's freckled cheeks beet-red, "What the fuck did you do to them?!"

William's look of confusion grew as he looked at his son. William genuinely didn't know what made him so angry. Looking down to the cloth in his hands, however, the pieces suddenly fell into place.

Michael found your jacket. He found it. And William thought he did a good job of hiding it too. The brit knew he probably shouldn't have kept it. It was yours, after all. And judging by the amount of wear-and-tear the jacket had, you were rather fond of it. Maybe it was wrong to take it.

Maybe.

But William found it hard to care if it was wrong or not. He loved you bunny. He loved you so so dearly. Without you, William wasn't himself. He had to pretend when you weren't with him. He didn't feel normal without you in his arms. When you left that morning, he knew he would miss you so much. He'd miss feeling whole, and having you close with him. And you loved him, right? You wanted him to feel good just like how he made you feel good, right? Of course you would. You wouldn't mind.

He just had to keep something of you close to him. Something that reminded him of you, that could act as his fix of you until you were in his arms again. He needed to take your jacket. How could he not? It would be perfect. It smelled exactly like you. It was about the size of your torso, too. It wouldn't give the real thing justice, but holding it at night might be some sort of reprieve for the older man. It could keep his bed warm when you couldn't. It was just a little reminder to him that you were his now. Your jacket was a way to prove it when you weren't around, along with those hickeys he gave you the other day.

And is that so bad? Wanting something to remind him of you? When he gave you something of your own to have?

He didn't think so. And he knew you wouldn't mind, either. You were a good bunny for him. You knew how he thought and operated. Just like he knew how you thought and operated. The two of you were soulmates.

So surely you'd forgive him for keeping a little memento of you.

But, of course, Michael had to ruin it all. William thought the dryer would be the perfect place to keep your jacket so that it didn't lose your smell. And now it was out. It was losing everything William was trying to preserve. And Mike was throwing it around like it was nothing. Like it was just a jacket. Like it wasn't yours.

William couldn't help but let a small glare slip through his calm, collected façade.

How dare Michael. How dare he treat your belongings like this. This wasn't just any old piece of clothing, it was yours. It was something William's bunny left him. It was his jacket now. Not Michaels. That fucking idiot. That piece of shit. William hated him. He hated him more than ever. He should've fucking left this goddamned family when he had the chance.

The brit needed to keep is cool as best he could. Not just for his sake, but for yours too. If the secret of his relationship with you got out this early, it would be much more difficult to manage.

For you, bunny. He'd keep his cool for you.

"What is this?" William asked, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible. This only appeared to make his son even angrier.

"You know exactly what the fuck that is!!" Michael shouted, "What the hell did you do?"

"Michael, I don't-"

"(Y/N)!" Michael exclaimed as he cut his father off, "Why the fuck do you have their jacket?! What the hell did you do to them?!"

God, how can one boy be so annoying? Could he just move out already? All he ever was these days was a headache. He was an obstacle. He was the reason why William couldn't have his sweet bunny in his arms right now.

Idiot.

"Please, Michael," William said calmly, rubbing the bridge of his nose in his fingers, "You're being ridiculous. (Y/N) comes over all the time."

"I'm not being ridiculous!" Michael spat back, pointing his finger at his father, "You did something to them! I know you fucking did!"

William couldn't help but raise his voice just a hair, "Just because you found (Y/N)'s jacket doesn't mean-"

"It was with your fucking clothes, dad! Why else would it be there?!"

Worthless.

"I don't know, I probably just saw it in the house and threw it in the wash."

Michael laughed, "Oh, bullshit! Don't think I don't remember all those fucking times you asked about (Y/N). All the times you didn't let me fucking sleep until I told you about them! Where you practically made me write fucking essays about every little detail of their life?!"

William rubbed his temples next.

Pathetic.

"I just wanted to know more about your friends-"

"How about the time you picked me up from class, huh? Even when I drove my damn self?! We were in the parking lot for an hour and a damned half while you talked to them!"

Waste of space.

"Michael-"

"Or how about the time you told me to invite them over, hm? And then when you did it again the next day? Then the next? Then the next?! And you kept asking for a fucking month straight?! Does that fucking ring a bell?!"

Shut up.

"I just-"

"I don't know what kind of fucking game you're playing here, old man, but you need to leave both me and (Y/N) the hell alone!"

William felt his jaw tighten.

Shut up.

"I've never-"

"All my entire goddamned life, all you've ever done is fuck shit up! And I've fucking had it! I finally have one normal friendship with someone who gets me, and all you wanna do is fuck it up!"

Shut up.

"I'm not trying to-"

"Whatever goddamned game you're playing here needs to fucking stop right GODDAMN now you sick piece of shit! You already fucked up my life, and I won't let you fuck up (Y/N)'s!"

The heat was starting to creep down William's neck.

SHUT UP.

"Mike-"

"Because guess fucking what?! (Y/N) is my friend! Not yours! (Y/N) isn't yours to-"

William's body moved on auto-pilot as he sprung up from his chair, the cheer force sending it rolling across the basement on its wheels. Pure, red-hot rage filling William's veins, he quickly marched over to his eldest son and grabbed him by his collar, a look of fear flashing over his freckled face as his father nearly slammed him back against the wall. The brit leaned in close with a glare, looking right into his son's eyes as he snarled through his teeth.

That little fucker. How dare he. Who is he to decide what belonged to William and what didn't. You were his. His. Not Michael's.

His.

"Listen here you little shit," William rasped, "I am fucking tired of you and this fucking attitude you've got, and all this bullshit you're making up. You do not come down here and start shit like this when you don't pay any goddamned bills, over these fucking fantasies you got in that thick skull of yours. When all I've done is try and be kind to you. I am your father, goddamn it! And you will respect that, you ungrateful brat."

Michal struggled in William's hold, giving the older man a glare right back, trying to put on a brave face, "Maybe if you were fucking honest I could respect you more, you narcissistic fuck."

"I am being fucking honest! Do I need to take a bloody polygraph for you?! Would that be sufficient for you, hm? Would it?!"

Michael continued to struggle in William's grip, but William was far stronger than Michael was. It was pointless.

Just like Michael.

"Answer me!" William spat at his son, pushing him further against the wall.

Michael gripped onto William's scarred wrist, trying to pull him off, his glare deepening as he looked into his grey eyes.

"(Y/N) doesn't like liars. Or demented twats like you!" Michael spat back, "How do you think they'd react if they saw you now?"

William's grip on his son's collar tightened at his words, the brit's back teeth gnawing together in his fury. Michael couldn't even fathom the level of which William knew you. He knew your soul. Your heart. Your mind. Your body. All of you. Michael was somehow your friend, but he didn't even know you. Oh, no. Not like William did. The older man knew everything about you. You were his sweet bunny. You were his soulmate. Michael was none of that. He was so beneath you, he couldn't even begin to understand such a wonderful, beautiful creature like you. Not even if he had spent every living, breathing moment of his pitiful life basking in the glory that was your presence. Michael would never understand.

No. Not at all. Not like William could.

William was your man. Your other half. Your mind and his was one in the same, and you were his.

He knew if you were here right now, you'd understand. You'd understand his rage. His anger towards his son. Because that was just who you were. You loved William. You loved him for him, the real him. Even the ugliest parts of him, that he had to keep hidden for so long, until he found you.

And who was Michael to challenge that?

No one. No one at all.

Michael was just fucking with William. Like he always was. Playing these little games to try and make the brit's life a living hell.

Two can play those fucking games, Michael.

Without warning, William let go of Michael's collar, sending the young man falling to the ground as he coughed and sputtered. The older man didn't even realize that he'd been gripping on to him so tightly, nor that he had even lifted him off the ground so high. Whatever. It didn't matter. He didn't care.

His brow stull furrowed, William marched back over to his workbench and picked up the phone that laid on its surface. The long chord dragging behind him, he marched over to the hunched-over Michael on the ground, holding out the phone and its receiver out to the young man with a stern expression.

"Here." William said flatly as Michael looked him up and down.

"What?" Mike asked, making William roll his eyes out of annoyance. God, how can someone be so fucking stupid? Especially someone he unfortunately shared DNA with.

"If you're so bloody sure of your little theory," William explained, slowly so that the idiot hopefully understood, "Why don't you ask (Y/N) yourself, hm? Or do you want to admit you made all this shit up now?"

Michael furrowed his brow, "It's 11 at night, they're gonna be-"

"I didn't fucking ask what the fucking time is!" William shouted, "Do I need to spell it out for you?! Are you that idiotic?! Call. (Y/N). And. Ask. Or go upstairs and leave me the hell alone, selfish brat."

Michael's gaze flickered from the phone, up to William, to the phone again, and then back up to his father. After what seemed like an eternity, Michael shifted his weight to lean against the wall as he sat on the floor, picking up the phone. William tossed the receiver down by his feet over to Mike, making the young man flinch with the sudden crash. As Mike rotated the phone's digits to your number, William walked back over to his chair, pulling it up closer to his son and sitting down in it backwards.

As he heard the phone ring, and William continued eye contact with his son, he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. You and him had talked about keeping your relationship a secret. You understood why the two of you had to, and you did promise him that you could keep a secret. But Mike was your only friend. You trusted him. You were a good bunny too. You'd never just straight up lie, wouldn't you?

But that was the thing. You were a good bunny. You'd listen to William and what he told you to do. What he said, went. No matter what.

This was your ultimate test, bunny.

You'd better not disappoint him. He'd hate to have to punish you so early on, and clean up the mess your honest lips got the two of you in to. He'd do it, of course. So he got to keep you. But he'd rather keep things how they are right now. Where he had time to plan things out, and judge things carefully and slowly.

Be good now, little one.

Be good.

William kept on his stern expression as the phone continued to ring, maintaining eye-contact with Mike in the heavy silence between them as they waited. Mike originally had his ear to the phone, but decided to point it out into the room so that both he and his father could hear.

The tension was thick. But your little voice cut through it all.

"Hello?"

William could feel his shoulders relax slightly at the sound of your voice. He couldn't help but think back to his little phone call with you, when he first invited you over a few days prior. The happiest day of his life. God damn it. He missed you so much.

Michael and William sat in silence for a moment. Mike was seemingly nervous to say anything, wetting his lips and taking a few silent deep breaths to steady his voice.

"H-Hey, (Y/N)." Michael said to you, clearly trying to sound as normal as possible.

Pathetic.

"Oh, hey Michael!" you responded, "What's up? Is everything okay? You normally don't call this late."

William and his son locked eyes again, another brief pause hanging in the air. The brit shifted in his seat.

Come on, bunny. Be good. Be good.

Michael bit the inside of his cheek before responding, "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just..."

Michael trailed off in his own thoughts, and William rolled his eyes again, gesturing for Michael to keep going.

"Jusssst, what?" You asked.

"It's just... I-I was just wondering if you had came to my place over the weekend? I found some of your things, and..."

William felt the grip on the back of the chair tighten, his mouth going dry. Fucking hell. He thought he might just shit a brick.

Silence hung over the room as you paused.

The brit could feel the sweat starting to form on the back of his scarred neck.

Please, bunny. Please be good for William. He loves you so much. Please be the good bunny he knows you are.

For him.

"Um, no?" you eventually said, "You never invited me over, Mike."

His lips parting, William breathed out a silent sigh of relief, feeling cool, crisp waves of euphoria washing over him. Oh, bunny. Oh his sweet precious bunny. So good for him. So so perfect. You did so well for William. You did exactly what he told you to. You took your orders so well, little one. William loved you so so so very much. You were so good. So precious. So smart and kind and beautiful. This is why you were his bunny. You understood your role, and understood what William was all about. What he was to you. He loved you so much. His precious darling. His soulmate.

His.

Leaning forward a tad in his seat, William had to fight back the smirk that threatened to dawn his handsome features as he looked at his son's shocked, defeated expression.

William could hardly contain himself. He won. He fucking won against that ungrateful piece of shit. Finally humbled that stupid idiot and his fucking superiority complex.

Oh, bunny. You were so perfect.

William just had to reward you now, didn't he? The next time he saw you. How could he not? After you were so well behaved for him? Hell, with the amount of excitement pumping through his body, William doubted he could wait until next weekend.

He missed you. He wanted you. Needed you.

His body yearned for yours even more now. Not just his body, but his soul and heart too. Precious little one. You were made for him, you were. How did he even function before without you in his life? He wished that you were here right now. He wished he could pull you close right here and kiss those sweet lips of yours, showing to his son that you were his now. Not Michaels. HIS.

Perfect bunny. His sweet, precious treasure. His sun and stars. William should give you an extra special reward next time he sees you now, shouldn't he? He's missed you so so much. And you were so very good for him, weren't you? Maybe William will buy you a special outfit to fit the occasion. Or perhaps you'd like something more classy? A nice date? Something new and expensive for you to show off? Or do you just want him? Think about it, bunny. Whatever it is, sir is perfectly happy to give it to you.

Thoughts of you swirling around inside his head over and over again, William watched as Michael opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish as he struggled with what to say. The shock of your little fib was still in his grey, widened eyes. The brit had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

"Michael?" You asked, "Are you still there?"

The young man had to swallow before he responded, "Y-Yeah, (Y/N)... I'm still here."

"Are you sure everything's okay? Did something happen?"

"No, (Y/N)... It's all fine. I just... I got mixed up. I'll see you in class tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright, if you say so. See you tomorrow, Mike. Goodnight."

"Night."

Silence filling the room again, Michael slowly slipped the phone back on the receiver, hanging it up. William continued to look at his son as he stared ahead with a shocked, defeated, and bewildered look on his freckled face. It was hard for him to keep from grinning like a damn fool. Michael finally got just a taste of what he deserved. How dare he come in here like that? Tossing around your jacket like it was nothing? Screaming his ugly head off at his own father? Throwing around insults? Over nothing? Over something he couldn't even begin to understand?

It was pathetic. But William couldn't even pity his son, no. All he felt towards him was disgust. Disgust and disappointment. And he was sure to make that known to the young man. As he got up from his seat, William gathered a few thing from off his workbench and pushed his chair back in. Straightening his tie and slicking back the few loose strands of his hair, William didn't even bother to pick the phone back up and put it on the workbench. He stepped over his son to go up the stairs without a spare glance.

"Goodnight, Michael." He said to the young man on the floor.

It was only when he closed the basement door behind him did William allow himself to smile.

~~~

Defeat.

It was an old friend to the eldest Afton son. Throughout his entire life, the young man never seemed to win anything. Never in any sports, never anything against his siblings, and certainly never anything in academics. Michael was more-so smart with his heart rather than his brain. Could never find his foot-hold in books and papers and essays.

He took after his mother when it came to Michael's heart. He knew this. Even though he was cursed with resembling his father, he took pride in his nature.

He tried to be kind to everyone. Give everyone an equal opportunity, and even playing field. Perhaps because he was never given one of his own.

Michael hated his father. He hated that man more than anything anyone's ever hated before. Whenever Michael would think he finally got a win over that evil bastard, the boy was brought back to his knees.

Quiet. Complacent. Fading into the background.

That's all that Michael's father wanted him to be. From very early on, Michael recognized it. But, of course, Michael was smart. He knew that if he simply became like what his father wanted him to be, that would be the old man's real victory. How many times had that psycho told him he was an accident now? Michael had lost track. But it was plenty to get the point across

Michael wasn't wanted. Michael wasn't needed. And William was more than happy to make that known every. Single. Day.

That's how Michael met his old friend defeat. As much as he knew defeat, no matter how many times it came to visit him, he couldn't help but feel the sting. The feeling of knowing that he got so close, only for everything to fall apart in the end. Like when you spend hours on a sandcastle, only for it to be washed away by the sea.

Michael was the sand. And his father was the sea.

Sitting on that cold, unforgiving floor, Michael couldn't move. All he could do was stare ahead into nothingness, his only company his defeat, and the quiet whirr of the water-heater in the background.

How. That was all that Michael wondered. How did it all go wrong? Michael's instincts never failed him like that. When he suspected something was astray, he knew that something was. He knew his father was up to something. He could see it, hear it in the way the old man spoke, and saw it again in that fucking smirk of his. But Michael's father did many things. Many things that Michael didn't like, considered to be cruel. But this...

Michael found his gaze slipping to your jacket, which had long since fallen to the ground.

You were Michael's best friend. Hell, in some ways, his only friend. Was that all that drew his father to you? Because you were easy to access? And that by doing shit to you, it would get a reaction out of Michael? Maybe.

But, then again... no.

No, it had to be more than that. Mike's father wasn't like that. At least, not like that in the sense that he'd go to such lengths if it was only for the purposes of tormenting the young man. He could do that in other ways, and other ways that were safer. Ways in which didn't involve others, that William could use to easily cover his tracks. Getting another person involved was risky. People talk. People suck at keeping secrets. People aren't easy to hide.

There had to be more to it. There had to be.

But, Michael was at an impasse.

You weren't a liar. You hated liars. You never ever lied maliciously. Even if it wasn't what Michael wanted to hear, you always told him the truth. That's what made you a good friend. So why? If you really hadn't come over that weekend for William to do shit to you, why would you lie about it?

Michael felt his lips part.

Unless you were told to lie. Unless...

You were in on it too.

Oh, god. No. No. What the fuck did his father do to you? What kind of sick game was this? William was trying to turn you against Mike, little by little. Step one was to make it to that you didn't believe Michael was ever telling the truth. This was step one. That whole phone call was step one. What did he do to you, (Y/N)? What kinds of things did William tell you?

None of them were true. Whatever they were, they were lies. Michael was sure of it.

But Michael knew the game all too well. And he knew that it was one he would never win.

Not unless he had an ally. That knew the game just as well as he did.

His father was not gonna take you away from Mike. No matter what.

Picking up the phone that sat next to him again, Michael held it up to his ear as he turned the dial, punching in a few numbers. He stared ahead again as he waited for it to finish ringing, his eyes fixed on your jacket.

Defeat said its goodbyes as Michael heard the other person pick up.

"Mum? I think I need a favor..."

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @laylaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!

[whosaysitsfantasy]

Juke/Maddison & Charlie

So I just want to address something about Juke and then I’m literally not going to talk about it again, because I’ve seen a few posts about people shipping the actors and then people hating on the ship a little bit because of the age gap and it’s just been frustrating me so I wan’t to kinda get this out and then just get back to enjoying the show. Also Apologies if this upsets anyone but these are my opinions and you in no way have to agree with them I just ask that you read my thoughts fully before passing judgment and to please be respectful.

Here is what I think it is ok to do:

Shipping Luke and Julie together. Why? Because in the show they are both teenagers (16/17). I saw someone say it was kinda gross because the boys should be like 42? which I think is a little ridiculous because if they had lived sure they would have been 42 or w.e. but they didn’t... they died, and it is  canon that to them no time has passed. What this means is that the boys are still mentally, emotionally and physically 17 years old. For this reason the characters are perfectly capable of being together and their biggest obstacle remains Luke being a ghost lol. 

Here is what I think it is NOT ok to do: 

Shipping Maddison and Charlie together in real life. Now I’m going to break down for you why this is gross and not ok and why saying “when she’s 18 he can date her” is also not ok. 

A 16 year old and a 22 year old have two completely different maturity levels. A 16 year old can be mature absolutely but that doesn’t mean that they are at the  same maturity level as a 22 year old. I’m 26 and I can tell you that my maturity changed DRASTICALLY between the ages of 16-24. I use to think I was very mature when I was 16. When I hit 22 and looked back at who I was I realized that I was not nearly as mature as I believed I was and now at 26 I can clearly see the differences in who I was as a person at these ages. I can guarantee that most people (if they’re self aware enough) would agree that their maturity level was completely different as a teenager then it was once they hit their twenties. A lot of this has to do with the simple fact that in your 20′s you’ve typically gained more life experience through jobs, and relationships and higher education your brain has also developed more. Now. Maddison is definitely mature for her age in no way am I claiming she isn’t however it is still very obvious through different interviews and lives I’ve seen of her and of Charlie that they are not at the same level. Mentally, emotionally, physically.They definitely have more of a brother/sister friendship. It’s clear that they care about each other and they can of course get a long as friends but friendship and an intimate relationship are two completely different things. Maddison and Charlie’s maturity’s work fine as a friendship but if you were to factor in intimacy and romance it quickly becomes problematic. Some people might still think that the maturity levels don’t matter. I’m here to tell you it does. 

While I don’t think that Charlie would be the type of guy to ever pressure a girl he is with, that doesn’t mean that the pressure would not still exist. If they were to hypothetically date Maddison could easily feel pressured into participating in things she might not really feel ready for like certain intimate acts, parties ect because she want’s to please her partner or because she might feel like this is what she SHOULD be doing rather then doing what she is emotionally and mentally ready for. That pressure can easily influence someone of a young age who hasn’t had many experiences into doing things they eventually regret or doing things that end up having a negative impact on their mental health and the way they view themselves or even how they view healthy/unhealthy relationships down the line. Now Maddison seems smart and has a good support system but your support system can’t protect you 24/7 in an intimate relationship no matter how hard they try which is why a lot of teenagers end up going through something that they end up wishing they hadn’t done because they didn’t know any better. To also say that he can just “wait” for her to turn 18 is just predatory and gross and suggests that it’s still ok to pursue someone of a young age so long as you wait till they are legal which it is not that still means you wanted to be with a minor even if you wait till they are 18.

Also it is important to note that an actors personal life is NONE of your business. An Actors job is to perform in the show/play/movie that they have been hired to perform in and to then promote that project. That’s it. That is all they owe you and anything else is entirely up to their discretion. You are not owed information about their personal lives and you are not owed a say in who they date. If you like two actors who are dating and you think they are cute that’s fine, if they are sharing their relationship and you want to support it that is fine but you have to understand boundaries. I’ve seen fans overstep in a LOT of fandoms (one example being Lili and Cole from Riverdale) where they attack other people for being close to the people in the relationship or they bother the actors to update them about their relationship ect. It’s disrespectful and it’s honestly not your place regardless of if they have shared information about a relationship previously. It’s also not cool to try to pressure the actors into dating, you don’t know what they are actually like irl you have no idea if they are actually compatible you do not have a full picture of the situation and for that reason your opinion should be kept to yourself.

Finally I want to address the whole Luke & Julie kissing issue because I totally understand why people are a little uncertain about it due to the age gap. Now normally I’d be a little put off by it but I am actually ok with the idea of Luke and Julie kissing on screen and I’m just going to list off quickly below why I think it’s ok and why I wouldn’t get upset if it happened.

1. It is very clear that Maddison’s family (specifically her dad) are very involved with Maddison and her job on JATP. Mr.Reyes is often shown on set with her at rehearsals and during shooting. He was there when they practiced the perfect harmony dance which I personally thought was kinda intimate. I feel better about it because I know she has a strong support system who will be there to ensure that if a kiss DID happen she would be safe because she has her family looking out for her on set.

2. Much like above both Kenny and Charlie are very respectful people who very clearly have a lot of respect and love for Maddison. I also don’t think they would ever put Maddison into a position she was uncomfortable with. If a kiss DID happen I am sure there will be a lot of conversations about it and it would be done in a respectful healthy way.

3. This is a job. They are not kissing because they like each other in real life they are not pursuing anything romantically. They are performing a job that they are being paid for in front of a group of people also performing a job. This for me helps me feel less gross about it because even though they are actually kissing it’s not a ‘real’ romantic kiss. It’ll be a staged one that they have gone over and discussed at length with Kenny.

4. This is a Kenny Ortega project. The show has very clearly established that the relationships are about more than physical intimacy. IF we get a kiss between Julie and Luke we are not going to get more then a PG rated kiss.. hell probably more of a G rated kiss. Not only because this is a project by Kenny but because the actors are different ages. It is also unlikely that we will get more then one maybe two kisses a season. I personally don’t think they’re going to make them kiss in season two I think it might happen if we get season 3 but I would still be ok with a season 2 kiss because again it will probably be very simple and very respectful especially cause it’ll also probably be Julie’s 1st kiss. If they were to have them  make out or something that would be when I would  feel uncomfortable, but that just doesn’t seem like Kenny’s vibe. He’s worked with a lot of young actors and it’s not like they’re going to french kiss or something. Kissing is intimate of course but a small closed mouth kiss is honestly pretty innocent in my opinion especially if done correctly. So it doesn’t bother me much.

5. Finally by the time they get around to filming a season 2 or 3 Maddison will also be a bit older (17 or 18) hopefully so she will also be at an age where it will feel more comfortable for her.

So in conclusion: shipping Juke good, shipping Maddy & Charlie bad and wanting Juke to kiss is acceptable so long as they do it appropriately which from what I’ve seen of the cast and the crew I believe they would. I personally have a lot of faith in the creators of this show it’s clearly a very healthy supportive environment and I trust that they know what they are doing. 

Again these are my personal opinions but I felt like some people weren’t really looking at it from a completely logical standpoint but more of an emotional one which is understandable because its a very serious subject matter and it could very well also be a trigger for many people who’ve gone through something similar. I just needed to get all that off my chest cause this kind of thing can breed negativity in fandoms and thats why I don’t participate in them anymore. and listen if this was a different show with a different cast and crew and creator and they had a 16 year old and a 22 year old kissing I would probably find it more unsettling but I think one of the reasons why we all love this show so much is BECAUSE it is so healthy and because the cast are so involved and vocal about the show. I have no doubt in my mind that Maddison would have the space to speak up if she was uncomfortable and I have no doubt in my mind that Kenny and her family would make sure she was safe.

So anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk and please if you disagree that’s totally ok just don’t be hateful, I’m happy to have discussions but I won’t tolerate rudeness cause at the end of the day it’s a show and it’s out of our hands and I’m not saying you have to agree with me. This is just how I feel about these issues. 

Ok thanks bye <3

[aprito]

hello <3 since i got these asks at the same time i decided to combine my thoughts on them in this post. yet another annoying sjw essay from yours truly on this blog 

before i get into these i think i need to preface why im like. i guess overly hyperfocused on a certain unproblematic base (same age au / platonic canon) for them and avoid the ped0philic content like the plague lol

tw for pedophilia ment, rape ment if that makes you squicky. ALSO THIS IS LONG AND RAMBLY

as i’ve mentioned a couple times already, ive been into the ship since i was 12, back when it was very very common to not only post untagged (nsfw) canonverse content of the two in writing and in drawing but also non con and the like, so you can imagine how bad my first impression online was. thinking back on it ...as a child i found it disturbing but didnt really register how problematic it really was?? (i know, but i also lived in the middle of nowhere and had no one explain this to me) 

skip to 2014 aka me coming back to naruto at 17ish and i had kinda become hyper aware of the fact that there was an increasing amount of people online who had come forward with explaining how fictional problematic content, mostly pedophilia, had been used to groom them into starting relationships with adullts. it was also a time where a lot of people didnt believe these victims, not registering how common it was for minors to be online friends with adults who had no boundaries and no qualms exposing them such content. not gonna get into my personal life here but i was lucky to not having gone through this myself. like... it kinda was my first time truly realising how fiction can EASILY be used to manipulate others irl (and yes i will not argue this, if you dont think fictional media can form and manipulate people’s opinions on attitudes, countries, cultures and virtues, pick up a book about the effects of propaganda media at least once please) 

i, being young, still liking the dynamic but not really the romance, would point this out here and there in the fandom and get into fights with grown adults in their mid 20s who assumed i automatically hated the ship(s) and tried to restrict their freedom of speech or whatever, heard everything from the “age of consent doesnt exist in naruto” to the “sasori looks like a child what does it matter” despite people clearly playing on him being older and experienced. it made me so upset that people were just consuming all this content uncritically and exposing children to it tbh?? not really just sos but a lot of minor/adult ships in naruto in general. and thats where i sat down and thought, i do not want to be a grown adult talking down to children that point out how unsafe the fandom is. theyre absolutely right in drawing these boundaries and calling out adults who defend the uncritical consumption and creation of this content. i do not want to consume or create content that predators could use to groom minors, and i absolutely do want to let younger people in fandom know that i am respecting their comfort zones and want them to have a safe and fun experience. after all, naruto is not an adult show and i think a lot of people forget that!!!! i am not perfect in that regard but its something that i, at the age of 23, am very passionate about and strive towards to.

and i guess thats where same age au was born for me and i have been sticking to it ever since. 

so finally we can move to the first question 

aside from the fact that we both dont like canon sos, i dont think it would work out even if i wasnt prejudiced to it anyways. in all honesty, 35 year old canon sasori is not a redeemable character to me, given the fact that he’s easily amongst the cruelest villains in naruto (torturing and killing and taxiderming people for his own fun personal gain, never for a goal that served anyone but himself. how do you redeem having over 300 corpses in your backpack that you felt absolutely no remorse for killing). sasori was legit one of the only cruel villains that didnt had someone else pull the strings, which sends a clear message on kishi’s part, who absolutely loves to redeem villains LOL.

being that old, he obviously had already been very manifested in what he believed in, even if it was shakey, to the point where the first crack in that world view (sakura and chiyo protecting each other) immediately had him give up on his life all together. that, in my opinion, is not a man who’s going to know what healthy relationships would look like, regardless of it being romantic or not. 35 year old sasori to me has the same appeal as an expired can of tuna and he’s probably very happy 6 feet under. he’s supposed to be a failed gaara in that sense that he had no one to look out for him and therefore was never going to experience anything but a bad ending in life. its fine that hes dead honestly, it wraps up his short character development the best IMO.

adding to that, seriously, sakura was obviously interested in knowing why he was that way, and called him out for being seriously fucked in the head, but it’s weird to me that people assume she had any interest in actively rehabilitating him, let alone starting a serious romantic relationship with him. sakura who’s not only very, uhm, immature and straight forward when it comes to her romantic viewpoints also, as a big bootlicker, wouldnt soil her standing in the village by starting anything with a disgraced and far too gone criminal like sasori. shipping that version of sasori with sakura intimately is still going to set her up for a huge power imbalance that would be difficult to handle imo, even if she was the one in the fight ultimately exerting her power over him. i would still look at it and think damn she deserves better than having to play therapist for man like that lol.

additionally, even if you ignored all of this, you cant really ignore that sasori had already known her as a child, and that had been his first and most impactful impression of her. i dont think that sasori would look at 35 year old sakura and see her as a grown woman and not the little green girl she was in the fight. plus, you easily fall into predatory comparison territory between the “childish” and “womanly” and i have seen way too often in fic just being boiled down to her now being fuckable. a lot of of ships do this and i would just like to remind yall thats it not normal for adults to want to start relationships with children they have seen grown up or known as a child when they themselves were fully grown adults. therefore, maybe if sakura hadnt met sasori before it would be less of a problem? but that also obviously defeats the point of the dynamic and the reason he died in the first place. so yeah, it sounds kind of doomed especially if you were to make it romantic. 

WHICH BRINGS ME TO THE SECOND QUESTION

let me preface this that im not fundamentally against age gaps, even if im not super interested in it. after all, colorblind had a 5 yr age gap (with sakura being 21), even if, say, i wrote similar fics today i probably would make it smaller lol. i think it can be handled well if both parties have enough life experience to deal with it, and the author is cautious of where the age gap starts, i think a 10+ year age gap would be fine in a scenario where the younger party (i guess sakura) was at least 25-27ish, meaning she has completed most of her most formative life stages and probably had been in relationships before, meaning she would be able to handle it without having to fear a huge power imbalance. the older the younger party is the less the age gap is going to matter tbh .TsukiHoshino and AngelOfDeath10 both handle age gaps in their fics really well imo, so i do not mind reading about them.

unfortunately, a lot of people in this fandom think making sakura barely "”””legal””””” (18, not even 20 which is hilarious to me because the source material is obviously japanese) because they both cannot stand her being past her “prime years” of being young fertile and fuckable to much older men as well as thinking a 20 year old is automatically old enough to handle that type of relationship. ive seen a lot of unironic takes that believe it will absolve them of callout posts if they throw around age of consent and “shes 18 now suckers!!!” enough lmfao. absolutely hilarious. aging a minor up without aging the adult down seriously reeks of predatory “cant wait until youre 18″ narratives and thats why i find it similarly disturbing as straight up pedo shipping.

ultimately, sasosaku is and will always be a inherently problematic ship in canon, which is why i think it should always be handled a little more responsibly in fandom spaces, ignoring or outright excusing the main problem factor, which is sasori, isnt going to convince anyone that the dynamic in itself is well written and interesting enough to explore in aus, like giving sasori the redemption most of us wanted him to have by aging him down to a point in time where he was still realistically going to allow being positively influenced, similar to gaara. 

so really, what i think is well handled age gap and how most people handle age gap in the naruto fandom are two different worlds at times lol 

tl;dr

canon shippers have never been anything but gross when i was younger and i didnt wanna be like that, even if youre “smart”enough to differenate, actual creeps dont really care and might use your content to blur the lines, sasori isnt rly redeemable so romantic canonverse realistically wouldnt make much sense and is still iffy, age gaps are fine if they are handled well, but given that the dynamic doesnt really need the age gap to still work im not that invested on making that an essential part of my shipping experience.  

thank you for reading and hope this makes sense!

[thejustmaiden]

Fiction and Real Life Go Hand In Hand

This blog goes out to all those pro-Sessrin fans out there who refuse to acknowledge the very real effects fiction can have on our world and vice versa. I highly encourage other Inuyasha fans who defend/enable these shippers to read this, as well. I assure you, by no means are my intentions here to stir up trouble. Honestly, I just want some good healthy discourse for once if that’s not too much to ask. If you do decide to engage, please be mindful of that and treat others with respect and I will do the same in return. All in all, the goal of this blog is to exercise my right to speak out and be critical about content I believe to have very potentially detrimental repercussions. I ask that you not attack me or insult me simply for stating an opinion. Thank you! 

It’s like the title says, meaning fiction does matter. Where do you think we get ideas for all the stories we tell? Where do we draw inspiration from in the first place?

Real life, that's where! And yes, always with a touch of imagination! Long story short: fiction matters because real life does.

Allow me to elaborate.

Shippers of the Sesshomaru x Rin (Sessrin) pairing say it's not fair of us to throw around serious accusations or use certain deragatory terms that suggest such awful acts like child grooming or pedophilia because of the harmful implications. One of their reasonings being that some people IRL have actually lived through these traumas, so we shouldn't dare to assume they're comparable since one is just fiction and the other is not. But this isn’t about which is worse than the other, because they’re both super problematic. All we’re literally doing is making a link between grooming in real life and grooming in fiction. They mirror each other. Same issue; different mediums. We’re not undermining any one’s past experiences with grooming or the like, nor are we prioritizing fiction to diminish real life abuse. They’re both awful in numerous ways and that’s all we’re trying to say. In fact, if anything we’re attempting to demonstrate just how crucial this correlation is between them. In order to protect past victims and prevent future ones, we must remain vigiliant of the content we consume, and yes, sometimes that means we have to challenge it too. Just because it’s widely-viewed does not make it widely-accepted or well-received. It is paramount that we educate ourselves on how to be more critical of some of the harmful tropes and images that are still way too prevalent in mainstream media. Sexualizing young and pre-pubescent girls is way more normalized than some of us even realize. It’s sad but true that Sessrin is just one of many examples. I know it feels like society has failed us in a lot of ways, but it’s never too late to re-evaluate and re-learn better and more improved ways of viewing and processing information presented to us.

Our mission: Let’s not show our kids that grooming or any other form of abuse are acceptable if they may ever come to experience or encounter it themselves. Be it the real world or on screen. Deal? 

There have been a number of occasions where real life victims do speak up against the Sessrin ship and express how extremely uncomfortable it makes them feel by what it represents. The problem is that it’s becoming more evident now that many of their fans will dismiss anything purely on the basis that we pose a threat to their ship and nothing more. What it comes down to is they have no real leg to stand on and cannot possibly top any of what we have to say so instead they simply disregard it. Our inconvenient truths don't fit into their ideal *cough* OOC *cough* narrative so they just choose to be willfully ignorant. It conflicts with their fantasy, so rather than present a sound argument of their own, they flat-out reject it and offer no plausible back-up behind their reasoning besides "I don't interpret it that way." GUYS, CHILD GROOMING IS NOT UP FOR INTERPRETATION.

Just because you so desperately want your ship to come true does not mean you can up and decide to redefine a word so that it caters to your stance. Remind yourself that these are complex AND objective terms that we have no right to fiddle with to serve our own selfish purposes. This is why we can conclude that there's no debate about Sesshomaru's actions towards Rin embodying child grooming.

I apologize if any of my words are triggering by the way, so please feel free to take a break and return later if that’s more suitable for you. it's just really important that everyone in this fandom comprehends the extent in which Sessrin going canon is catastrophic. And no, I'm not exaggerating; I'm simply speaking the truth. Shippers justifying these horrible acts- yes, even in fiction- is usually due to the stubborn refusal to hear us out. No offense to anyone (just stating facts), but more times than not antis like myself feel as if we’re talking to a brick wall when we interact with Sessrin peeps. They go in circles and never expand on their perspectives. 

Just a head’s up: THIS GETS LONG. Stick with me. :p

Just look at their take on the Inukag vs. Sessrin relationships for example. This isn't a question of age gaps, this is a question of physical/emotional compatibility. Inukag are the same age mentally wise regardless of one being demon and the other not, whereas Sessrin is not and never will be, and yes, even once she's an adult. The thing is we have debunked this time and time again, because they’re not the same and therefore not comparable, but for some reason these fans won’t drop it. Nothing has changed in their argument, yet they’re persistent in bringing it up. I choose to not go into more detail, since like I said, you can find it around everywhere. I just wanted to touch upon it briefly to prove a point. Maybe it will come up again later in my blog though! 

Where was I earlier? Right, child grooming! Haven't you guys realized that what you’re doing is precisely what child groomers do to make excuses or deny any grooming took place at all? (FYI: I’m not accusing you of being child groomers yourselves.) “They reciprocated so the feelings are mutual" is a typical groomer response, but of course it varies. More often than not, victims of grooming aren't even aware they've been groomed until much later. That's how manipulative groomers are that they can legitmately convince you that maybe you're wrong in questioning their motives. Perhaps in the victim’s mind that because one huge indicator of grooming never actually took place it technically cannot constitute as grooming. They start to doubt themselves even though their intuition is telling them something’s off. They should just ignore it then since it can’t possibly be grooming if that one particular thing never happened, right? Wrong, grooming isn’t strictly this or strictly that. It's much more complicated and multi-faceted. This is why the “but Sesshomaru left Rin in the village” point upsets me greatly. HE WAS STILL INVOLVED IN HER LIFE, Y’ALL.  

On top of that, are you aware that this is the exact same kind of predatory mindset pedophiles use to describe their infatuation with children? They'll say things like, "I don't see them as an adult and a child. I see them as two people with a soul connection." Okay no joke, I wish I was lying, but that is literally a point one pro-sessrin fan on here recently used to defend this ship. It both astounds me and terrifies me that they don't see the glaring similarities they share in common with actual pedos.

Alright, I want to quickly return to what I was saying earlier about fiction's impact on real life. (Sorry, I’m a bit of a scatterbrain!)

The characters and their worlds in our stories that we dream up and bring to life are nothing short of awe-inspiring and magnificent if we so choose them to be. If it wasn't for our imaginations, stories like Inuyasha would have never come to exist. Fiction provides us an amazing outlet where we are given the opportunity to express ourselves and explore its infinite creative possibilities.

But strip away all the demons and magical components of this show we all love so dearly and what are we left with?

At the very core, Inuyasha is a story that's very reminiscent of the human experience: love, camaraderie, a sense of purpose, and much more!

So perhaps we got a full-fledged dog demon like Sesshomaru, but does that necessarily mean we can't relate to him or understand him simply because dog demons don't exist in the real world? Well, I hope that's not how you view it or else you're missing the whole point of why humans create stories to begin with. We create them to make better sense of and thus connect with the world we live in. And when you really think about it, our stories are just a celebration of life- both our struggles and our triumphs. Now I'm no philosophy professor, but I'm pretty sure they'd say I hit that nail right smack on the head. ;)

All shitty jokes aside, the whole reason I’m mentioning this specific example in the first place is because this recently came up with another Sessrin supporter. That supporter tried to defend the ship by stating that we aren't allowed to use Sesshomaru as an example to judge by since his kind don't exist in the real world.

Now if it isn't evident already, this "it's just fiction" argument is a popular go-to stance many Sessrin fans will resort to once they've run out of ideas and are metaphorically backed into a corner. The funny/sad thing is that they seem to sincerely believe this is strong enough evidence to defend their ship with, but per usual, they fail to see how hypocritical that would be. I’ll clarify soon down below. 

Seriously, since when did we decide that fantasy- or any story genre for that matter- stopped reflecting the real world we live in? I mean, we humans are the ones writing these stories. Our human influence is bound to make an impact in some capacity. In fact, we want it to!

Obviously none of us have ever met a dog demon like Sesshomaru, because how could we? Let me tell ya, this is gaslighting at its finest! This is a fictional story with fantasy elements, so of course there will be beings and creatures in their world that don't exist in our own. Does that somehow translate to the fact that nothing from the story of Inuyasha can be applied to our own personal stories or that there aren't meaningful messages to be taught and learned?

So on the flipside, if they're not screaming at us "it's just fiction" for the hundred billionth time, then they are, believe it or not, doing the reverse and comparing it to real world history. One instance of this is how they tell us we're making a big deal about something that isn't real, but go right ahead and use the history of feudal Japan to support Sesshomaru's decision to court (aka GROOM) a young girl because that's how it was done back then. And so, your point being?? It wasn't right then just because it was legal, and it's most certainly not right now. This is how all of their arguments go by the way, where you'll constantly witness a cherry-picking approach. It's agonizing to endure contradiction after contradiction in their arguments filled with nothing but holes in their logic.

I'd just like to add that if we're overreacting to this fictional ship like they love to say we are then technically so are they. They tell us things like "grow up" or "nobody is telling you to keep watching," yet fail to realize they're reacting just as fervently as we are but just on the opposing side of the same damn argument. I find it interesting how they're as invested in this show but pretend they aren't then STILL have the audacity to say it's only us who care this much!? So thank you Sessrin shippers for further proving our point that fiction is more than capable of affecting reality and the people- YES, US- who reside in it.

It's insane that people act like pedophiles and other creeps don't enjoy entertainment too like the rest of us. Believe it or not, they look just like you and me most of the time. Yes, that means they can easily pass as a “regular guy” if they so wished to. My question to you is how do you think pedophiles will take it when they discover others- underage fans more specifically- who dig the same kinda media they get off to? Maybe not in the exact same way, mind you, but there's a thin line between them when you really think about it. I mean, what other explanation is there for why literal pedos on the internet have been known to sneak into pro-sessrin group chats here on Tumblr before? (Thankfully, they were later kicked.) I know that for a fact! It's almost as if the universe is trying to tell them something they refuse to listen to elsewhere. Hhmmm I wonder what that may be. 

I imagine it’s possibly one of the hardest things to admit out loud and to themselves, but I can almost guarantee you that most of these Sessrin shippers who are victims of CSA and who still see no issue with Sessrin must be living with some sort of unresolved trauma caused by the very abuse they claimed to have undergone. It's been proven that victims who do not seek or properly receive the help and treatment they need in order to address and live with a traumatic experience such as this are more likely to perpetuate that very same abuse themselves in some way, shape or form. What if in this case fiction is enough for them, but who's to say it won’t eventually manifest itself in other more dire and far-reaching ways? It's not like we haven't seen this vicious cycle before, and I can promise you that Sessrin won't be the last. LET'S STOP NORMALIZING & GLORIFYING THE ROMANTIZATION & SEXUALIZATION OF CHILDREN. Fictional example: Usagi Drop. Need I say more? Real world example: Woody Allen. Again, need I say more?

Bottom line is that Sessrin shippers don't want us to think too critically about this ship of theirs, because if we dig too deep then they're forced to face the very troubling implications this pairing really stands for. Of course they'll never admit to them, because instead they rather double down and grasp at the same old straws as long as it means their precious ship is protected at all costs. Screw everyone else if that's what it takes, because they'll threaten to burn down legit buildings in real life if that ensures Sessrin goes canon! (True story, this happened on Twitter.) They’ll taunt and bully anyone who disagrees. Even if all you literally say is that you don’t like the ship, they’ll gang up on you. Tell them about your past experience with being groomed? They’ll laugh in your face. I wish I was kidding, but I assure you I am not.  And they say we're ridiculous and taking this way too seriously? Yeah...

The typical behavior of a Sessrin shipper demonstrates an overly aggressive front since they're usually on defense mode anyway. They only want to ship their sick ship in peace in other words. But just because neo-nazis have a right to spew their bigoted ideology, doesn't mean we don't got the right to punch them! Freedom of speech doesn't equate to freedom from consequences. And Sessrin shippers wonder why they got so many haters. Just sayin'.

Their presence on other platforms like Twitter and Reddit are some examples of how delusional and unstable some Sessrin fans are capable of becoming. Even recently, an anon here on Tumblr sent Richard Ian Cox (English VA for Inuyasha) a totally uncalled for ask telling him that "sessrin is love and there's nothing he can do about it." (That's not verbatim, but if you're interested I'll link you to it.) It appears they discovered that he didn't like Sessrin based on how he had been replying to asks, and just for that reason alone they thought they had the right to harass him. For simply stating his opinion, y'all. They didn't even have the decency to show their face either. Talk about immature and cowardly! 

Just yesterday (or was it the day before?) a fanatic Sessrin user on Tumblr- who’s also been known for hateful remarks on Twitter but those tweets have of course been deleted since then- went out of their way to not only lurk in a group chat they don’t belong to on here but to then proceed to harass a few of us in there. They had the guts to take screenshots from that group chat, tag us in posts on their page regarding what they read in there, and without our knowledge or permission went ahead and actually blogged them?? I mean, who calls out people behind their backs while they're just minding their own business?? It worries me how unhinged and out of touch with reality some Sessriners are. Not all of them, but a whole lot of them. 

It seems all they are doing is looking for trouble, as they just can't stand how much we hate this ship. So it's more than okay if they love on their ship but it's not okay if we don't and we should just keep our mouths shut. But since when do Sessrin fans have authority over our opinions? Even if they were officially canon, nothing is ever gonna change our opinion. Now when they actually do decide to participate in discourse with antis, you'll see them fishing for excuses to bow out. How they normally go about this is by fabricating a way to blame us antis for their exiting a conversation as if we're being the irrational ones here.

There’s no denying that some antis can also be overly blunt or aggressive (nobody is saying we’re perfect here), but speaking for myself, I know I would never make such nasty comments about other fans and their personal lives. And honestly? It would make me feel like shit talking bad about someone I don't actually know. Nah, I won't stoop to that level or give haters that satisfaction. I may not attack them as people, but that doesn't mean I can't attack some of their messed up ideas that threaten to distort how we should or shouldn’t perceive certain dangerous situations and events. Seeing as how for me this is more than just a matter of opinion- it's a moral responsibility and even an obligation.

I know it's difficult to remain civil when things get heated and people start taking things personally- yet more proof that fiction impacts our lives- but that's the only way any of us will ever have constructive discussions about serious topics like this. Unfortunately, Sessrin shippers, from what I can tell, are incapable of engaging in real discourse for the most part. They may be vocal but that doesn't mean they can pack a punch. I’d really love to be proven wrong someday.

Okay, moving on! If they're not involved in some big-time gaslighting then they're using their infamous strawman argument approach.

Sessrin fans’ sole purpose isn't really to defend their ship, per se, but rather to deflect and antagonize. They like to mislead in order to shift the focus/blame onto their opponent or something else that's not related so that they can stray from the main point. 

Take the drama CD for example. It's officially NOT considered canon, right? But that hasn't stopped many fans from referencing it anyway so let’s too consider it for a moment. The point is that they use its "existence" whenever convenient then deny it or downplay it whenever it’s not. So on one hand, it's plain as day that they celebrate it as proof of a romantic future for Sessrin. But then later once we point out to them that Sesshomaru is essentially confessing to Rin that he will wait for her until she's of age, they'll brush it off and quickly add that they didn't interpret the scene that way and leave it at that. I mean how else would you interpret it? And if it's not a proposal of sorts then why exactly are you bouncing off the walls about it to begin with?? If that's all it means is nothing then why are we even talking about this?! You see what I mean here??! And somehow we're the crazy ones? 

Let me to be frank with you. If you haven’t listened to it already, this proposal he offered her sounded like a declaration of love in a multitude of ways, which is wildly inappropriate since Rin was only 12 at the time. Signifying that Sesshomaru was/is indeed grooming her. Well, that is if you choose to recognize the drama CD. Nevertheless, whether you do or not, I personally hate that this non-canon satire is even associated with the Inuyasha name to begin with. Ugh. 

Intentional or not, Sesshomaru made a deliberate decision in that moment to tell a little girl- and not just any little girl mind you but a girl he's taken in under his care for a good year- that he would wait for her if she so chooses once she's old enough. 

The issue is that it isn’t only age of consent we’re concerned about regarding this pairing. What Sessriners fail to see is that this grown male authority- her vassal, her guardian, her adoptive father, or whatever you wanna refer to him as- is basically making a move on this girl he had in his company for quite some time. There's no sugarcoating that. Us antis call it how it is, and I'm sure as fucking day other people who don't watch the show would most certainly agree that the Sesshomaru/Rin bond is filial. Set aside those rose-tinted glasses of yours, and going by everything we’ve been delivered in the manga and parts of the anime (and NOT the drama cd), there are literally no hints that indicate a blossoming romance between this adult male demon and this small human girl he’s taken under his wing. You can imagine them all you want if it pleases you, but that doesn’t mean they’re there. Adult!Rin is a figment of your imagination, nothing more. The idolization of this pairing is pretty disturbing seeing as all we have to go off of in canon is Child!Rin. There have only ever been sweet and innocent moments passed between the two, which is why I’m positive that an unbiased viewer or an outsider would state their dynamic resembled something akin to a father-daugther relationship. I would bet a shit ton of money on that, believe you me!

Rin's inhibitions are low because children are naturally naive and don't know any better. Remember, she adores and trust this man with all her heart, so why would she think any of this so-called grooming is not normal behavior. (I only say “so-called grooming” because I don’t think Sesshomaru bringing her gifts in the village has to be a romantic thing.) Or how would she ever be able to understand that she’s being taken advantage of if she has no previous experience with it? Maybe if she was present for that time Inuyasha and the gang scolded Miroku when they had learned that years previous he had supposedly proposed to this young girl in the village they were visiting, then Rin would. And he didn’t even assist in helping raise her but look at how they reacted! How is this any different than Sesshomaru hooking up with Rin later? It’s actually worse in Sessrin's case. Do you honestly believe that Inuyasha and the others would take kindly to this?

It's not uncommon and considered harmless for young children to have crushes on adults, after all, but the adults in these scenarios should never resort to using and abusing the position of power they held or continue to hold over this child for any reason whatsoever.

What I'm trying to get across here is that no matter how you spin it, Sessrin can NEVER be deemed a morally acceptable pairing. Like ship what you want, we're not saying you can't ship Sessrin. What we're saying is this:

STOP referring to their bond as "pure" and not expect backlash for your grossly inaccurate statements. Just admit it's toxic, because it's extremely harmful to many viewers- and not just victims- to pretend and suggest otherwise.

Please remind yourself of the very real canon fact that Rin traveled with Sesshomaru and they established a bond all while she was just a girl. Oh, and he saved her life too many times to count, not to mention brought her back from the dead TWICE. This is why I don't care much for your counter argument "that dynamics can change over time," because although that's true, like with everything in life there must be standards we adhere to. Exceptions to rules, if you will. Our own basic morals demand it.

For instance, it’s normal that some childhood friends begin to like each other as more than friends years down the road. Nothing wrong with that, because that's a natural and healthy occurrence. Now you cannot apply this to an adult and a child for obvious reasons, but what you also cannot do is apply this to an adult who met and knew another adult while they were still just a child. Why? Well, because it'd be like betraying and perverting that former child's view of you. They were never your equal because your established dynamic resembles that of one an adult posesses with a child even once they've grown up. Think about it this way: it's in the same bracket of family members or family friends who've watched you grow up and mature into an adult. Then later just because they're all grown up, does that mean that those children "are not off bounds" - that's quoting a Sessrin shipper by the way- to these certain family members and family friends? 

If you're still struggling to grasp this, I urge you to take a moment (or all the time you need!) to really put yourself in that child's shoes and self-reflect. Would you truly be alright with a family friend you haven't seen in years (but sorely missed because they used to occasionally babysit you) just someday coming back into your life and then very inappropriately flirting with you or even making sexual advances on you? (Sorry for the run-on!) Or even worse, can you picture this happening to one of your own children??! Seriously, ask yourself that and sit with that for a while and really take it all in. It’s not fun, I know, but if that’s what it takes to help you finally understand then please try and practice more ways to utilize your self-awareness in the future. It’s for everyone’s benefit, not only yours, I promise! You'll also find it makes it tremendously easier to empathize with others.

I got news for those fans who don’t view Sesshomaru as a father figure to Rin. The title we give him doesn’t hold as much weight as a lot of us are making it out to be. Let’s try to be neutral here and stick to the hard facts, shall we?

*Sesshomaru is an adult male authority whose protection Rin is under*

*It’s safe to assume that Rin has grown attached to him and maybe even looks up to him*

*They care about each other and the other's well-being*

*He has has played a crucial part in her supervision and care for a significant period of time (yes, even if it’s just passing a message along to Jaken)*

Not so random anecdote: In an Inuyasha episode I recently revisited, Sesshomaru had just rescued Rin from Kohaku who had been possessed by Naraku and was ordered to kill Rin. Anyway, at the end of their scene you can hear Jaken ask out loud, “what should we do for dinner, Lord Sesshomaru?” And that’s about the most domestic thing I’ve ever heard come out of his mouth. They’re such a family dammit and nothing will ever change that!! <3

This is precisely why I could never in a million years view those past students of mine in a romantic light. I don't care how many years have passed, it's just not possible for me. Just the idea of pursuing a romantic and/or sexual relationship absolutely repels me.

Speaking as a former teacher, you don't need to be a parental figure who's around all the time in order to have great love and affection for a child. I would've done absolutely anything in my power to protect them even though they weren't my own. Then again, I did consider them my children in a way even if wasn't in a familial sense. Does that make my love for them any less unique? No, it's just different but not inferior. When you stop to think about, it really doesn't take as long as you may think to establish rapport with a person, particularly children. Connecting with a child is almost instant (but of course some are more receptive than others), and once you do make that special connection one can only make with a child, a strong and overwhelming need to guide and protect them kicks in almost automatically. The unconditional love an adult feels for a child is powerful and constant, and nothing should ever change that. As much as some of you really want to believe otherwise, that feeling doesn’t just go away because they turned 18. In your eyes, they’ll always be that kid.

I get it, sometimes when we escape into these fictional worlds of ours, it's difficult not to project our own wishes and desires onto certain characters. I don't blame fans for picturing themselves with Sesshomaru- I know I did haha- but never once did I self-insert myself as Rin. I know she's one of the biggest catalysts for his character growth- if not THE biggest- but how and why does that need to turn romantic? There are other antis who I have spoken with on this. They informed me that they used to live vicariously through Rin and ship them together, as well. As they got older, they later learned how weird and twisted this ship actually was. That's what's supposed to happen, y'all, you're supposed to grow out of that fixation. 

Now take your mind out of the Inuyasha universe for a second and hypothetically (or not hypothetically if you have kids) answer me this: if and/or when you ever have a child, would you genuinely be comfortable with the idea of them dating and eventually marrying their father’s best friend who was also there to witness them grow up? Be honest please. 

I highly doubt you would want that- or at least I hope not. You see, that's another MAJOR point I've made a few times already and yet you Sessrin shippers continue to avoid the question. It's pretty obvious it hasn't been rhetorical either. Ignorance is bliss?

Finally, I’d like to address one more point. It seems there is a HUGE misconception and I'd like to clear it up real quick. That is Sessrin shippers misinterpret one of the issues we have with this ship. They chalk up our complaints of Sessrin being canon (which is a LIE, nothing has been confirmed yet) to us just being salty because that somehow means our ships aren't or won’t be. I assure you, readers, other antis and I will attest that this ain't about dumb shipping wars, this is so much bigger than that!!!

I noticed recently that some Sessrin fans have even begun calling us Karens lolol like if anybody is a Karen it's them! This ain't about some mere difference in taste, this is very likely to have LONG-LASTING NEGATIVE EFFECTS. Sessrin going canon is a very harmful message to send viewers and children/teens especially. So if anything, it’s these shippers who are being the entitled ones here thinking that the fact we don’t support their ship is the worst thing in the world. NO, THE REAL PROBLEM IS CHILD GROOMING. GET OVER YOURSELF.

Out of nowhere, some of them even started assuming all us antis were white, which in their books is also equivalent to Karens or even white supremacists somehow?? Those aren't one in the same, but it's easy to make it appear that way when the US is currently tackling major systems of oppression and racial injustice. Because to them, all antis must be from over here. (Yes, I'm American. But no, I'm not white.) How else can anyone explain not shipping Sessrin, right?! Somehow they have it in their heads that ALL of Japan and surrounding places are super approving of this ship, and that everyone else isn’t because of their upbringing and “Western way of thinking.”  

To give you an idea of what I mean, look back at what I talked about earlier with their incessant mention of Sessrin vs. Inukag. Because THIS is another popular example of how these shippers present their side and then ignore all the facts. Many fans have already proven how fucked up and inaccurate it is to label whole countries and cultures. It’s like they simply think mentioning it makes it count even though we’ve discredited their points over and over. Nah, you got to back it up with good reasons that support your side of the argument. That’s How To Have An Argument: 101. So at the end of the day, all they're actually achieving in doing is making dumb and entirely unrelated accusations based on nothing just to lead to deductions that are equally unfounded. Nothing at all is accomplished but more gaslighting and hurling of insults on their part = a complete waste of time for antis = an excuse for them to peace out early from the conversation & that’s what they wanted all along

We’ve reached the end (finally! sorry for all the rambling!), and I hope those of you who stayed till the end or read enough can take something positive out of this. As many Inuyasha fans are aware, there will be a livestream with the VAs for Sesshomaru and Rin coming out within the next few hours. We don’t have all the details yet, and afterwards we probably still won’t. I’m not just talking about Sessrin here but about the sequel in general. Whatever happens, please just remember to be kind to one another. If you don’t think you’re capable of doing that, then it’s best you vent and fume elsewhere. Easier said than done, I know, but just try. Throughout this blog, I admit there were moments where I got frustrated and took some jabs at Sessrin shippers. Please believe me when I say that I do not and would not ever wish any of you ill will. 

Inuyasha was such a huge part of my childhood, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m anxious as hell that Sunrise will ruin one of the best things I loved about this show. So pardon me if my reactions are too visceral for your liking. haha Also, like the movies and the drama cd, this sequel is not in fact canon. Therefore, for those of you who disagree or who still plan to enjoy this new series, respect the fact that some of us fans will definitely “cancel” it if we feel that’s what we have to do to come to terms with it and move on. Fans have that right, after all. Why should we get on board with something if it’s so uncharacteristic of and unrecognizable from the original source material? If all this is some sort of cash grab of Sunrise’s doing, then count me out. I truly hope that this sequel turn outs being a lot more promising than a lot of us are expecting. I’m begging you, Sunrise, I wanna believe you’re better than this. Please and thank you!   

By the way, if you’re interested, feel free to check out my two other blogs on this same subject. Click here and here. The last two screenshots do not come from something I’ve written myself. If you’d like to read more from where those came from, let me know and I’d be more than happy to send you the links. Okay, bye for now. Peace out and stay safe, everyone! 

[hopeshoodie]

If you're under 25* pls date me I'm also lonely and since I live far away and we are in a pandemic we'll zoom or facecall or just send dm, I promise you'll probably get bored of me faster than I could ever possibly get bored of you (concern you mention in a different ask). Also we could play among us together or other online games

*I have just turned 19 so I kinda don't feel comfortable dating someone older than 26

Im like 60% serious and the % is growing (if this creeps you out I take it all back sorry)

I can’t tell if this is spam or not??? but like... 

Babes, we all gotta make distinctions between dating, friendships, and online friends. Online friendships are SO important when you don’t have a lot of support irl, but I don’t think you can genuinely develop a romantic relationship with someone that you only speak to online (obviously there’s a difference between relationships that have lasted for over 5 years and stuff, that’’s how I met my ex-husband, but still). Hell, I don’t even consider most of my online friends as genuine friends because they don’t know me wholly. 

Also it hurts my heart that you feel like the percentage is growing as you get more desperate? You don’t need to be in a relationship.  It’s okay to say ‘quarantine has got me feeling really isolated and I need social interaction’, but you’re still a whole person. You’re only 19, I promise you that your world is going to get so much bigger in the next few years. You’re not behind, and you’re okay.

This goes for anyone, I love playing online games and watching bad movies with internet friends. I’m always down to dm and listen to you rant/talk about whatever. But I’m not going to commit to a romantic relationship right off the bar. 

Also also please please please set your age range lower in your romantic pursuits. 26 year olds are at a VASTLY different point in their life than a 19 year old. I know it feels like ‘it’s only 7 years’, but I’ve been in big age gap relationships before and they’re not healthy. 

[findyourrp]

Hello! M here seeking F partner for slow-burn, story-based, plot-heavy, sweet but dramatic, romantic roleplays, with a healthy dash of spice when the time is right. As a result, all partners must be of legal age.

As a warning, I'm pretty vanilla, so if you're looking for a partner to engage your wild kinks, I'm probably not your guy. You can, of course, ask if I'm interested, as long as you don't mind me being honest. And if you/we can find a way to incorporate such a kink into something rather sweet and romantic, well, awesome.

You can try to suggest a fandom, and you might turn out to hit just the right idea to make me geek out, but I'm mostly into non-fandom roleplays, modern setting, either 100% realistic or with some fantasy elements.

As for what I like, I dig age gap roleplays; on a related note, I'm going to be hard to convince to play someone younger than, say, 25 or so. I'm more comfortable playing between 30 and 45, really. I also dig my partner either playing pregnant to begin with, or ending up so in the course of the roleplay. And let’s not forget: forbidden love and/or taboo relationships are just *chef’s kiss* – as long as, see above, they’re still sweet and romantic. The rest of what I like would probably mean I need to mark this post, so if you’re interested, ask. I do NOT do bathroom stuff, cruelty, injury, or non-con/dub-con.

I'm not strict on literacy, as long as it moves the story forward, but I'm most comfortable in the 2-4 paragraph range. This is not to say that a single paragraph might not get all the plot motion done; it’s also not to say I won’t get carried away and write a freaking novel. Both have happened.

I'd prefer we end up on Discord, but if you want to hammer stuff out here then move over when we're about ready to start, that would be splendid.

And also, I do have a few prompts (and solo writing, and math nerdery) on my Tumblr, so if you want to take a look, please feel free.

Just so everyone knows: I'm not here for anything in real life. All I really need to know is, are you of legal age irl. Beyond that, I like being friends with my partners, chatting about random stuff, sharing funny memes, but there won't be a lot of identifiable information and there almost certainly won't be irl pics shared. I'm here to play, not be myself.

I think that's about it for now, so please feel free to message me!

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